


Sick, But Kicking

by petiteinsomniac



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, HIV/AIDS, Kinda?, M/M, Modern AU, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:12:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 40,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiteinsomniac/pseuds/petiteinsomniac
Summary: When Whizzer gets sick and isn't getting better, he goes to see a doctor. Little does he know who the doctor will led him back to...





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is the first multichapter fic I've done for Falsettos! I'm very excited about it even though it may be a little overdone. I'm not sure quite how long it's going to be, but we'll see. It starts a little slow, but I promise it picks up. I hope you enjoy it!

Whizzer took a shuddering breath. 

Lately, it was the only kind of breath he had been taking. At first, he’d thought it was just a cough. Allergies, maybe. And then he’d thought, it could be a cold. And then as the days passed and he felt increasingly worse, Whizzer had reasoned that it must be the flu. 

And now? 

Well now he’d run out of things to blame the whole catastrophe on, he felt worse than he could ever remember feeling, and he was staring at the imposing glass front of a building he desperately did not want to enter. Whizzer hadn’t visited a hospital in a very long time, and he was incredibly eager to maintain that streak. However, he was also incredibly eager to continue to live and he had absolutely no idea what could be wrong with him. All he knew was that it wasn’t a cough, or allergies, or a cold, or the flu. And something in his chest told him that it could very well be something much worse. Though his life had been less than desirable thus far, it had been on somewhat of an upward trend as of late and he had been hopeful. Earlier that morning, as he had struggled to catch his breath on his bathroom floor, it had occurred to Whizzer that he wasn’t ready to give up that sliver of hope just yet. 

All of which had brought him here. Whizzer’s fingers shook, but still he reached for the door and pushed it open and then he found himself inside the hospital, air that was too cold and smelled too foreign washing over him as if drawing him into the folds of a place that felt way too big for him to be there in it alone. Nonetheless, he was there and he was alone. That was how it had been for the past two years. Ever since Marvin. Since Marvin, there had been casual hookups and nothing more. Even those had been fewer and farther between. And yet, Whizzer had it together a little more now, and while he had to admit that there had been times when he had wished for it all just to end, he ultimately wasn’t ready for that. He still had dreams, somewhere underneath the layers of bravado and self-confidence that he had painted on over time. He still hoped, somewhere within him, for love and a family and some stability in his life. Contrary to popular belief, Whizzer Brown didn’t plan on existing on casual sex forever. 

So he stood in the center of a bustling emergency room lobby, people swirling around him and activity everywhere, alone. Because he couldn’t breathe and it was scary and Whizzer wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. And with that thought and another shuddering breath, he approached the desk and hoped that it would be enough to want to be here. 

 

Some time later found Whizzer in a tiny cubicle of the emergency room with an oxygen mask on his face, a papery hospital gown against his skin and only a thin curtain shielding him from the rest of the loud, busy ER. The hospital had gotten, if anything, only more frightening and unwelcoming and if everyone didn’t seem so concerned Whizzer would probably have gotten up and left. As it were, everyone who had come into contact with had seemed incredibly concerned about his well-being and so Whizzer just sat. A doctor would be with him soon, they had said. Soon, he was pretty sure, had come and gone, but he supposed that it didn’t matter. He didn’t have anywhere to be and he wasn’t sure he could get himself there in this state if he did, anyway. So he just sat and waited, breathing through the oxygen mask and not allowing himself to hope. 

That is, until finally the curtain drew back with a swish and clank of the metal clips that held the curtain in place. Suddenly in view stood a dark-skinned woman with intelligent eyes and a no-nonsense air about her that was less than threatening but still made it clear instantly that this woman was no pushover. 

“Good afternoon, I see your name is-” she began, but he cut her off. 

“Whizzer,” he said, his voice muffled behind the mask. Quickly, he took it off. “It’s Whizzer.” 

She looked up, ran her eyes over him once, glanced back at the chart, and then nodded. 

“Whizzer,” she repeated. She hesitated, looking as if she were about to ask him something, and then shook her head slightly, almost as if it were more for her own benefit than Whizzer’s. 

“You can call me Charlotte,” she told him, and just like that the strange glimpse beyond the facade was gone and replaced with her staunch professionalism once again. “I hear we’re having trouble breathing.” 

“Among other things,” Whizzer grumbled. Suddenly, he felt incredibly nervous. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to take a breath. That, he discovered, was easier said than done but Charlotte paid it no mind as she checked monitors that Whizzer didn’t understand and referred back to what he could only assume was his chart. Whizzer wondered idly what she was thinking, but it made him anxious to try and figure it out so he took to staring at his phone screen instead, despite not being even mildly interested in the content there. 

“Whizzer.” 

He looked up at the sound of his name and found Charlotte sitting at his side, looking up at him from her stool with her dark, intense eyes. 

“Yes?” he asked in return. 

“Are you sexually active?” she asked bluntly. Whizzer stared at her for a moment. The question seemed so out of left field that it took him a moment to process it. Charlotte was waiting expectantly for his answer, so Whizzer nodded his head. 

“Yes,” he replied. “Why? What does that have to do with this?” 

Charlotte didn’t answer. She looked down at her chart and then back at Whizzer, then sighed. 

“Whizzer, we’re going to run some tests. I should have some more answers for you soon, but for now we’re going to get you into a room,” she said. 

“A room?” Whizzer repeated. He could feel his heart speeding up beneath his chest. He had been scared enough to come here, but to stay here? To be stuck in this place with the oppressive nature of the air looming over him, pressing in on him, while he waited for...whatever he was waiting for. To get better? To die? The thought of waiting here for that, by himself, made Whizzer shiver. 

“Yes,” Charlotte said, her tone a little gentler, as if she could sense his fear. “We’re going to keep you here for a bit. You’re very ill, Whizzer.” 

“I noticed,” he said dryly, and Charlotte cracked a tiny smile as she rested her hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re going to see what’s going on with you, alright?” she said. He nodded silently and he was going to leave it at that but as he watched her approach the door, he found himself seized by a sudden, unyielding urge to speak up. 

“Am I going to die?” he blurted out. Charlotte paused at the door and slowly turned back in Whizzer’s direction. She offered him a small smile. 

“Not if I can help it,” she replied. Whizzer, though not entirely reassured, felt something inside him lift slightly. He nodded his head and then Charlotte was gone and Whizzer found himself alone again, wondering to himself how much more of his time he would spend that way. And, more to the point, how much time he had left to spend any way at all.


	2. Two

Charlotte leaned against the inside of the door of her office and sighed. Visions of Whizzer, with his dark eyes and handsome, but now pale, face swam in front of her. He wasn’t what she’d been expecting; at least, not entirely. There were traces of what Marvin had relayed to her, but the prevailing trait was an earnestness that had caught Charlotte off guard. She took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, rounding the desk to collapse into her chair, scrubbing a hand over her face. 

An uncommon occurrence, Charlotte had no idea what to do. 

She was pretty sure she knew exactly what was wrong with Whizzer, and while she was still waiting on the test results, the whole concept weighed heavily on her. 

“Am I going to die?” he had asked her, looking somehow at once both deeply vulnerable and wildly courageous, and in spite of herself something inside her broke a little bit. He could die. She didn’t think that he would, but she had no idea how long he’d been infected. Or even, really, if he had been. Yet, the thought nagged at her for a plethora of reasons. She thought about not only Whizzer and what this meant for him, but also about Marvin. About the repercussions of this potential diagnosis for a man who had become her friend over the last couple of years. Marvin was less than perfect, and yet she had seen something in him even in the beginning. Now, after two years of listening to him pine for the man who now found himself in her care, Charlotte saw him even more thoroughly. She knew- even if Marvin didn’t- that he loved Whizzer, perhaps even more so now than when they had actively been in each other’s lives. Charlotte pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Cordelia’s name. It was Charlotte’s dinner break, but at that moment, she found that she didn’t need dinner even half as much as she needed to speak to her wife. 

Cordelia, across town in the apartment she shared with Charlotte, was sitting across from Marvin when her phone began to ring. On days when he didn’t have Jason staying with him, Marvin was generally lonely and on nights when Charlotte was at work, Cordelia felt much the same way. As a result, the two of them often found themselves sitting together in Cordelia’s cheerful kitchen, talking about everything and nothing merely to keep one another company. On that night in particular, Jason was joining them. Cordelia had been testing out a new recipe and she had sweet-talked the two of them into coming over to try it with her. Sweet-talking, Marvin thought, might not have been the correct term. Jason adored his dad’s neighbors, so it had been more like a simple knock on the door and an excited Jason dragging Marvin in his wake. Now, the boy in question was playing some sort of handheld video game that Marvin didn’t know the name of, lounging on Cordelia’s couch while the two adults chatted aimlessly. 

“Oh, it’s Charlotte,” Cordelia beamed as she reached for her ringing cell phone. Marvin felt a twinge of something in his chest at the sight. Even just a phone call from Charlotte sent Cordelia into a blissful tailspin. He would have said he missed that, but the fact was that Marvin had been so selfish and so walled off that he hadn’t ever let himself appreciate Whizzer in that way. It now stood among Marvin’s greatest regrets, one he found himself dwelling on often in spite of how long it had been since the last time he saw the man in question. Strangely enough, it was thoughts of this that were floating around Marvin’s head as he tuned back into Cordelia’s conversation in time to see her happy expression melt into something like worry. 

He watched her attentively, and strained his ears to listen. Charlotte’s voice was loud; over the phone in Cordelia’s hand, she could be heard quite clearly if Marvin was trying to hear her. And hear her he did. 

“-Whizzer’s sick, maybe really sick, and I’m sure it’s his Whizzer, because what other Whizzer could it be and I can’t tell Marvin but I don’t know what to do.” 

Marvin’s blood seemed to run cold within his veins as his heart plummeted to the depths of his stomach at the sound of those words. He locked eyes, blue on blue, with Cordelia across the kitchen island and she stared at him, startled and caught. 

“Charlotte,” she said quickly, interrupting her wife on the phone. “Charlotte, shut up!” 

That caught even Jason’s attention, though the nearly-teenager only spared them a scathing and confused look before returning to his game. Marvin’s gaze was locked on Cordelia, his heart racing. Whizzer’s sick. He heard the words over and over in his head, an endless and sickening loop of Charlotte’s voice. Words he hadn’t been meant to hear, but which were now engraved in the fabric of his thoughts forever. 

“What?” Charlotte’s confused voice filtered over the phone speaker and Cordelia sighed. 

“Give me the phone,” Marvin said. He had expected it to come out demanding, but even to his own ears the tone was pleading. Cordelia hesitated. 

“Cordelia?” Charlotte asked, sounding vaguely concerned now. 

“Charlotte, Marvin is here,” Cordelia said, her voice surprisingly even given the panic in her features. “And-” 

“And he can hear me,” Charlotte finished. “Shit.” 

“Cordelia, please,” Marvin begged. 

“Marvin, wait,” Cordelia said softly. She held his gaze and turned her attention back to Charlotte. 

“He’d like to talk to you,” she said into the phone. Charlotte hesitated. 

“Alright,” she agreed after a moment of silence, and Cordelia handed the phone to Marvin, who found as he raised his hand to take it from her that his fingers were trembling. 

“Charlotte,” he said into the phone. “What’s wrong with him?” 

“Marvin, you know I can’t tell you anything,” she said. “You’re not even supposed to know that he’s here.” Charlotte’s head was aching already at the thought of the nightmare she’d just managed to drop herself into. 

“Charlotte, please,” Marvin begged. He was vaguely aware of Jason watching him across the room, but didn’t stop to consider the explaining he was going to have to do when this phone call ended. 

“I can’t tell you anything, Marvin, I’m sorry,” she said. 

“Are you sure it’s him?” Marvin asked. Charlotte sighed. 

“I’m fairly sure, yes,” she replied. “Marvin, I’m sorry that you had to hear that but he just got here and I don’t even know what’s going on yet so-” 

“I’m coming over there.” 

Marvin wasn’t entirely sure what had seized him. He had spent the last two years wishing things had been different with Whizzer, but not doing anything about it. If you’d asked him even fifteen minutes before, he would have said that he was quite certain he wouldn’t speak with Whizzer again- not now, and not ever. As much as he wished things had been different, he had thought it was over and he had been resigned to that. Now, knowing that Whizzer was sick- maybe really sick, his mind reminded him- everything seemed different. 

“Marvin-” Charlotte began. 

“Does he have someone with him?” Marvin asked. Charlotte sighed again; she pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. 

“Does he?” Marvin pressed when she didn’t answer. 

“No,” she admitted finally. “He’s here alone.” 

“I’m coming over there,” Marvin repeated. His voice was unwavering and Charlotte knew without the shadow of a doubt that there would be no talking him out of it. 

“What am I supposed to tell him?” she asked instead of trying. Marvin hesitated. He didn’t have a clue what Charlotte was supposed to say to Whizzer. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe- maybe don’t tell him anything, I don’t know. I don’t care. I just-” he broke off and sighed, letting his eyes fall closed as he rested his head in his hand. Behind his eyelids, all Marvin could see was Whizzer there alone, scared and sick. He didn’t know what Whizzer would say if Marvin showed up at the hospital, but he knew with surprising certainty that he had to try. He wasn’t the man he had once been, and this time he was determined to do the right thing. And that, he was sure, was not letting Whizzer sit in a hospital room with no one at his side. At least, not without a fight. 

“Alright,” Charlotte sighed, and Marvin opened his eyes again. “It’s my fault that you know at all. I’ll talk to him.” 

“I’m going to be there as soon as I can, okay?” Marvin said. 

“Okay,” Charlotte sighed. 

“Charlotte-” Marvin said abruptly, and she found herself reminded forcefully of the way Whizzer had called out to her earlier, at the last minute in a rush, as if afraid to ask. 

“Yeah?” she said now to Marvin. There were a few seconds’ silence. 

“Is- um- is he okay?” 

Charlotte took a breath. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, wishing she had a better answer to give. “He’s in pretty bad shape right now, and I’m hopeful that he will be but… Marvin, I just don’t know yet.” 

“Alright,” he said. There was a moment of anticipatory silence in which they both knew that something else was about to be said. 

“Thank you, Charlotte,” Marvin breathed, and though Charlotte didn’t know that Marvin had anything to thank her for, he sounded so grateful that she just sighed. 

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’ll see you soon. Can I talk to Cordelia?” It was only then that Marvin remembered that he was holding Cordelia’s phone, and he nodded even though Charlotte couldn’t see him. 

“Yeah,” he said and passed the phone back to her. 

As she finally looked away from him and turned her focus to conversing more quietly with Charlotte, Marvin found himself at a sudden and overwhelming loss. He took a deep breath, tried to shake the images of Whizzer from his mind, and stood up. Jason had, at some point, looked up from his game and was now watching Marvin intently. 

“Hey, kid,” Marvin sighed as he sat down next to his son. 

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked. His dark eyes were intense on Marvin’s lighter ones and his posture was very still; tension buzzed in the air around them. Marvin took a moment to think, aware of his son’s impatience at his side. 

“A friend of mine turned up at the hospital where Charlotte works,” Marvin said carefully. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go and be with him tonight.” He tried very hard not to tap his fingers against his leg in nervousness, knowing very well that his eagle-eyed and perceptive child would be the first to pick up on it. 

“Who?” Jason demanded immediately. 

“Just a friend,” Marvin said, firm but gentle. Jason stared at him, discerning and steady, for a moment. 

“I want to stay here with Cordelia,” he said finally. 

“Jason, I don’t want-” Marvin began. 

“That’s fine.” Marvin looked up at Cordelia’s voice to find her standing behind the couch, looking down at the two of them. Her expression was perhaps the gentlest Marvin had ever seen it, which was saying something considering her already-kind nature. He made eye contact with her and she smiled with such understanding in her features that he could have wept. Swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat, he nodded. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“Yeah, of course,” Cordelia said. She turned her smile on Jason, brighter now. “We’ll have a way better time than you sitting in a boring hospital.” 

Jason cracked a smile and Marvin was flooded with a rush of relief and gratitude for Cordelia. 

“Okay,” he relented as he stood up. He looked down at Jason. “You be good, okay? And text me when you go to bed.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not five, Dad,” he said. Marvin shook his head. 

“That’s what we got you the phone for. Text me, okay?” he insisted. Jason finally nodded his head. 

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. 

“Alright, good,” Marvin said before turning to Cordelia, who followed his wordless cues and accompanied him to the door, where he paused to shrug into his coat. 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely to her, and she immediately waved him off. 

“It’s nothing,” she insisted with equal sincerity. “We’ve heard the way you talk about him,” she added in a much lower voice. Her warm blue eyes focused on Marvin and she took his hand briefly. “You’re right to do this,” she assured him. “Nobody should be alone like that.” 

“Thanks,” he managed, barely holding it together; Cordelia squeezed his hand and smiled. 

“Go take care of him,” she said. “I’ve got Jason.” 

“You’re the best, Delia,” Marvin sighed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Cordelia just smiled, and then Marvin stepped out the door. 

He paused for a moment, and then with a deep breath he headed down the stairs, hoping that she was right, and more importantly that Whizzer would see it that way, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm taking this slower than I've ever taken anything in my life and it's killing me but I actually love this chapter. I hope you're enjoying it, and if so please let me know :) Whizzvin together will come in the next chapter, I promise.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I bring you a third chapter in as many days. please let me know what you think!

Whizzer was waiting- again. He was just wondering idly if everyone in the hospital did as much waiting as he was doing this evening when there was a quick courtesy knock on the door of his hospital room and then Charlotte had returned. She offered Whizzer a tight smile, and Whizzer narrowed his eyes. Though he wasn’t often given credit for it, Whizzer was incredibly perceptive. He could feel the shift in the energy of the room, detect the difference in the way Charlotte moved and how she approached him. Something was...off. He knew it somewhere deep inside, in a place that he couldn’t explain. 

“Whizzer,” Charlotte began, and he nodded. 

“Do you have test results?” Whizzer asked; he had reasoned that was all it could be, the cause for this shift in the feeling of the room. But he watched as Charlotte shook her head, an indication to the negative. 

“No?” he asked, suddenly confused. 

“No,” Charlotte confirmed. She sighed as she sat down and bit her lip, looking up at Whizzer from the same position she’d sat in earlier. Except that now, things were a little bit different. 

“I need to come clean with you about something, Whizzer, and…” she sighed again, forcing herself to look up and meet his gaze. “I’m going to ask you to just let me get through this before you ask questions, if you can.” 

“Okay,” Whizzer agreed uncertainly. His already anxious mind spun in circles as she spoke, jumping to the worst case scenario, each thought more wild and unlikely than the next. 

“When you came in tonight, I recognized your name,” Charlotte admitted. Whizzer bit his tongue, refraining from immediately asking her where she knew him from. Instead, he ran through the rolodex of his mind, coming up empty; he was pretty sure that he didn’t know Charlotte from anywhere. 

“Two years ago,” Charlotte continued, “my wife and I got a new neighbor. A single man with a young son who stayed with him on the weekends. We made friends with them. Well,” she amended with a wry laugh, “more like Cordelia made friends with them and dragged me with her. Even so, I’ve grown fond of them as well and we’re very close. He- the man, not the kid,” she clarified with a glance at an attentive Whizzer, “started talking to us very early on about the issues he had with himself and his sexuality. He’s gay, and he had recently gotten out of a relationship when we met him. A relationship that- that was the catalyst for the end of his marriage. He, um, continued to talk about that, and about the man he’d… lost.” 

Whizzer watched Charlotte, silent. She met his gaze for a moment, as if searching his eyes for something, then cleared her throat and continued. 

“Tonight, when you came in, I saw your name and I- I knew where I had heard it before. From-” 

“Marvin.” 

Whizzer hadn’t meant to interrupt Charlotte. Truly, he had been intending to honor her request and remain quiet, but at the realization he couldn’t hold back. 

“Yes,” Charlotte confirmed unnecessarily. “From Marvin.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Whizzer asked. “Because you- you can’t be my doctor or something?” 

“No,” Charlotte sighed, almost wistfully, as if she were wishing it was as simple as that. “When I went on my dinner break, I found myself unsure what to do. So I did what I always do in that situation. I called my wife.” She paused to take a deep breath. “What I didn’t realize, and failed to consider, was that it’s Friday night. And Jason, he- he loves spending time with Cordelia so on a lot of Friday nights he drags Marvin to my apartment to see her.” Whizzer’s heart leapt against his ribs at the mention of Jason. God, he had missed that kid, and hearing Charlotte say his name like that, so casually as if Whizzer hadn’t spent so many nights hoping that he was okay, that he was figuring it out and that they were all putting their drama aside and taking care of him…made his chest ache with something other than whatever illness had crept into his body. He shook his head and forced himself to listen to the rest of the story. 

“I told her that you were here,” Charlotte admitted. “We’ve sat there and listened to Marvin talk about you for so many nights that I half feel like I know you, and here you were, sick and alone. I didn’t think. At least, not until she stopped me. Because Marvin was right there and he could hear everything that I was saying.” 

She looked imploringly up at Whizzer. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. 

Whizzer sat there, looking at her for a moment. His mind was spinning to a slow stop, an effect of his failed attempts to process all of that. The idea that Marvin had spoken to these women about him, so much so that they could feel this strongly about him, made him feel unsettled. It wasn’t necessarily bad, he didn’t think, but it was definitely strange. 

“What did he say?” Whizzer heard himself ask. Charlotte hesitated. 

“He asked to speak to me,” she said. “And then he asked me if I was sure it was you, which...I was. Am.” She shook her head, looking vaguely irritated at her own stumbling words. “He wanted to know what was wrong with you. I couldn’t have told him, even if your test results had come back and we knew more than we do. So when I told him that, he said that he was…” She took a deep breath. “That he was coming here.” 

“What?” Whizzer asked. 

“He wanted to know if there was someone here with you, and I told him that you were alone and he insisted that he was coming here. So he’s- he’s on his way here right now.” 

Whizzer stared at her in utter disbelief. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Marvin, the same Marvin who had loved him and fought with him and destroyed him alongside his own family and life, was coming here. To be with Whizzer, apparently. 

“You don’t have to see him,” Charlotte offered, and Whizzer glanced over at her in surprise. “If you don’t want him here, I can tell him that. You can refuse visitors.” That, oddly, had not occurred to Whizzer and he paused for a moment, turning it over in his head. He could do that. He could turn Marvin away and send him back to Jason and back to the lesbians who lived next door to him and he could even request a new doctor if he wanted to. He could leave all of that in the past, where he had spent two years convincing himself that it belonged. And yet- 

“What’s he like?” Whizzer asked abruptly, catching Charlotte’s gaze. His dark eyes bore into hers, wide and vaguely innocent and earnest, and Charlotte softened. 

“He’s different,” she admitted honestly. “He tries. Really hard. Sometimes too hard.” 

That, Whizzer thought, didn’t sound like Marvin at all.

“He’s imperfect, but he loves that kid and he-” she broke off suddenly and Whizzer frowned. 

“He what?” he prompted. Charlotte sighed, thought about it for a moment, and then decided to bite the bullet and just go for it. 

“He loves you,” she said softly. Whizzer started to laugh; he couldn’t help himself. The idea that Marvin still loved him was so bizarre and so heartwrenching and so confusing that all he could do was laugh. However, the laughter caught in his chest and Whizzer found himself coughing. He squeezed his eyes shut and his body pitched forward, curling in upon itself as his chest tightened impossibly and he struggled for breath. 

“Take it easy,” he heard faintly from Charlotte, who was now standing at his bedside. But the coughing continued and Whizzer had never been in such pain in his life. It consumed him so thoroughly in fact that he didn’t hear the door open. Marvin, however, heard and saw everything about the scene before him. At the sight of Whizzer, thinner than he’d been before and curled in on himself in that tiny bed, each breath rattling and labored as he coughed violently, Marvin felt the blood drain from his face. Some instinct drove him past Charlotte’s protests and to Whizzer’s side. The first thing that Whizzer was aware of was a familiar touch- Marvin’s hand on his back. 

“Whizzer,” Marvin murmured. “Hey, you’re okay.” He looked desperately up at Charlotte. “He’s okay, right?” he asked anxiously. “He’ll be okay?” 

Charlotte nodded calmly. 

“Whizzer, honey, lean back,” she said evenly, guiding him with her hands. “You need to calm down.” 

Marvin could help with that. He was sure that he could. He ran a hand though Whizzer’s hair, threading his fingers through perfect, silky strands. 

“Calm down, Whiz,” he said in a low, familiar tone. “Calm down, you’re gonna be alright.” The sound of Whizzer gasping for breath hurt- it hurt somewhere deep inside, like Jason’s face when Marvin used to scream, or the way it had felt when he’d watched his mother die, or that time that Jason broke his arm and cried in Trina’s arms at a hospital like this one. But Marvin just ran his fingers through his ex-lover’s hair with one hand and took Whizzer’s with the other. Whizzer squeezed his fingers tightly, but as the heart monitor beeped rapidly, Marvin watched Whizzer’s breath slowly start to even out. The coughing ceased and at an agonizingly slow pace, Whizzer settled down and the heart monitor stopped beeping so quickly. Charlotte had wrapped an oxygen mask around Whizzer’s head and now it rested against his face as he leaned his head back. Marvin watched him closely, everything about him tense. 

“Easy, Marvin,” Charlotte said gently. “He’s okay.” 

“Yeah,” Marvin breathed, but he still didn’t take his eyes off of Whizzer or move a single muscle. 

Whizzer, meanwhile, was coming back to his senses. He could feel Marvin’s still-familiar fingers in his own and slowly, he forced his eyes open with a flutter of his long eyelashes. Sure enough, Marvin came into focus and their eyes met. Whizzer watched Marvin swallow hard, still staring at him. 

“Whizzer,” Marvin said softly. Whizzer nodded his head slowly, and to Marvin’s great surprise, squeezed his hand lightly. He turned his dark eyes on Charlotte, still standing at his other side. 

“I guess,” he began, his voice muffled but still audible, “I can’t refuse to see him now, can I?” 

Charlotte smiled slightly. 

“I’ll happily kick him out if you’d like,” she said. Whizzer paused, turning his head to the other side again, to look at Marvin. They looked at one another like that for a moment, silent and holding hands and for just an instant, nothing and everything had changed. 

“No, thanks,” Whizzer said softly, almost so quietly that neither of them heard. And then with that, Marvin’s heart leapt in his chest and Whizzer closed his eyes again, his fingers still tangled with Marvin’s.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh...another chapter because I was inspired and I'm impatient. here you go.

“Who’s the friend that my dad is with?” 

Cordelia sighed slightly to herself. She was a smart woman, all things considered. And she knew Jason well. She had definitely seen that question coming. Now, she offered the twelve-year-old a patient smile. 

“He’s just a friend, Jace,” she replied. Jason didn’t let anyone but Cordelia call him that. Mendel had tried, but Jason had put a stop to that one very quickly. Yet somehow, when Cordelia did it, he didn’t mind so much. However, the affectionate nickname wasn’t going to deter him. 

“Is it really just a friend?” Jason asked skeptically. “Because he sounded pretty upset on the phone.” 

“Well,” Cordelia said with a strong attempt at a casual shrug of her elegant shoulders, “People generally are upset when their friends are sick.” 

“Yeah,” Jason scoffed. “You say that like I haven’t known my dad literally my entire life.” 

Cordelia had to admit that the kid had a point there. 

“Either way, what makes you think I know who it is?” she asked. It had been the wrong move. 

“That alone tells me that you do,” Jason retorted. Cordelia was wishing she had just kept her mouth shut. 

“I know who it is anyway,” Jason shrugged nonchalantly. “I just thought I’d see if I could get you to tell me.” 

“You do?” Cordelia heard herself ask; Jason still always managed to surprise her. 

“What?” Jason asked with a roll of his hazel eyes. “You think you guys are the only ones who have heard him talk about Whizzer nonstop for the last two years?” 

And then he has scurried out of the room to the kitchen in search of the cookies he knew Cordelia would let him have, and Cordelia was left to sit on the couch and be glad that she and Charlotte had no children of their own. Jason, she had decided, was quite enough to handle. 

 

“Is he still asleep?” Charlotte whispered. Marvin nodded his head, but kept his eyes trained on Whizzer. He’d been at the hospital for an hour, and Charlotte had ducked out about fifteen minutes after his arrival. She had refused to tell him what she had said to Whizzer, but whatever it was seemed to have done something good. 

Truthfully, Marvin wouldn’t have been surprised at all had Whizzer turned him away immediately. But he hadn’t. Marvin couldn’t help but play the whole event over and over in his mind as he sat there and watched Whizzer sleep. He could still hear the awful sound of Whizzer’s ragged breath echoing in his mind, despite wishing for nothing more than to erase it. However, as he watched Whizzer sleep more peacefully than he would have expected, Marvin thought that he would gladly hear it over again for the rest of his life in his mind if it meant Whizzer didn’t have to experience it again. He recalled the panic and fear on Whizzer’s features with vivid clarity, and in order to avoid thinking about that, he focused his gaze on the same features, now even and calm in sleep. 

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Marvin asked. 

“Not yet,” charlotte answered with a sigh. “I’ll have test results in the morning.” Marvin nodded silently, and Charlotte studied him. 

“Where’s Jason?” she asked. Marvin glanced briefly in her direction, but found that it was hard to think when he looked away from Whizzer. He looked back and then answered. 

“Cordelia let him stay there,” Marvin replied. Charlotte laughed lightly, fondness etched in every note of her voice. 

“Of course she did,” she murmured while checking the numbers on Whizzer’s monitors. 

“I hope it’s okay, that he stayed,” Marvin said apologetically. 

“Of course it is,” Charlotte answered. “I’m not even going home tonight anyway.” 

“Can I stay here?” Marvin asked softly, finally wrenching his gaze from Whizzer to turn imploring eyes on Charlotte. “If he wants me to, once he wakes up, then will they let me stay?” 

Charlotte hesitated. The answer was technically no, but she could change that. She looked between Marvin, eager and desperate and scared, and Whizzer, sleeping peacefully and breathing only a little uneven. She nodded her head. 

“I’ll make sure they know not to kick you out,” she said, and watched Marvin melt in relief. 

“Thank you, Charlotte,” he said quietly, so sincere and raw that Charlotte herself could have cried. 

What a night, she thought as she tried to compose herself. 

“You better not screw this up again, Marvin,” she said instead. Marvin’s face softened and he turned his gaze on Whizzer again. 

“I won’t,” he murmured. Charlotte, hovering by the door watching the two of them silhouetted against the dim, slightly flickery hospital lights, had never believed anything more. As she closed the door behind her, she hoped that Marvin would have a chance to prove it. 

 

Darkness had completely fallen outside and dinnertime had passed by the time Whizzer woke up. Everything was fuzzy at first; he couldn’t quite recall where he was or how he had gotten there. Yet, there was a warm hand in his and something about that felt incredibly nice despite his current lack of the ability to recall whose hand it could possibly- 

And then, it all came rushing back to him. He remembered Charlotte, and the conversation she’d had with him, and the way she had said Jason’s name so casually and then told him that Marvin loved him. And then he remembered the pain and the coughing and the panic, and then the familiar touches and Marvin at his side and Marvin’s hand in his hair and how desperately Whizzer had wanted to curl up against Marvin and stay there forever. It had been a rush of such strong emotion, and so unexpected that even now Whizzer didn’t know what to make of it. He had long since left his feelings for Marvin in the rearview mirror. Hadn’t he? His fingers twitched against the hand that he now knew to be Marvin’s and then Whizzer could feel the shift in the energy of the man who had stayed there next to him. 

“Whizzer?” Marvin asked softly. Whizzer tried to remember how long it had been since he’d heard Marvin speak so softly, before tonight. He couldn’t place it. But he did like it, that soft tone that Marvin was using. 

“Mm,” he hummed, letting Marvin know that he was awake although his eyes remained closed. 

“Hey,” Marvin said. “How are you feeling?” 

The truth was, Whizzer felt like utter shit. He just shrugged his shoulders in response, though, and Marvin stayed quiet. After a moment, Whizzer opened his eyes again, taking in the time on the wall clock and Marvin’s mismatched shirt and tie. Marvin, despite his atrocious fashion choices, looked good. Whizzer wasn’t sure if he was making it up in his delusional state, but he sort of thought that Marvin looked softer somehow. As if he truly had mellowed out, the way Charlotte had said. 

He’s different, she had told him. Different, Whizzer thought now. He wondered what that meant, exactly. Imperfect, but loving. She had said that he loved Jason, which Whizzer was sure was true. Marvin always had loved Jason. He hadn’t known how to show it, or what it meant, or what Jason needed. But God, he had loved Jason. Whizzer had been so frustrated by that; by how obvious it was to him there in Marvin’s eyes, and by how horrible Marvin had been at expressing it. 

Charlotte had said something else, too, though. That Marvin loved him- Whizzer. That one was a little bit harder to get his head around. But at the idea that Whizzer was sick and alone, Marvin had rushed over here. And when Whizzer had been panicked and unable to breathe, Marvin had stood there and calmed him down, soothed him and held his hand. And then when Whizzer had fallen asleep, Marvin had sat there with Whizzer’s fingers tangled in his own, and waited. And now here they were, together in this tiny hospital room against all odds. Whizzer didn’t know what to make of it. 

“Your tie is a disaster,” Whizzer said quietly. A flicker of surprise and delight flashed over Marvin’s features and Whizzer watched with interest as his eyes lit up and he laughed. 

“Yeah,” Marvin chuckled. “I know.” 

The two of them settled into silence for a moment, and with Whizzer’s gaze on him like that, discerning and interested, Marvin suddenly found himself nervous. 

“Um,” he began, “I guess Charlotte told you how I-” 

“Yeah,” Whizzer said. “She did.” 

“Right.” 

Whizzer hesitated, watching Marvin as the man in question as he nervously used his free hand to pick at a loose thread in his pants. 

“Why did you come here?” Whizzer asked frankly. Marvin’s gaze snapped up to meet his again and he froze, looking caught like a deer in the headlights. 

“It’s not a hard question, Marvin,” Whizzer said softly. “Why are you here?” 

“Because- because you shouldn’t be alone,” Marvin answered finally. It rang with truth, but Whizzer still felt there was more to it than that. 

“Shouldn’t I?” Whizzer asked quietly. Their eyes met, and each of them recalled vividly the fight that had brought up the inquiry in question. 

“You’re trash,” Marvin had snarled. “You deserve to be alone.” 

“No,” Marvin whispered. He held back tears as he looked over at Whizzer, awful words and unspoken memories hanging there in the air between them. He squeezed Whizzer’s hand lightly. 

“Whizzer, you don’t deserve to be alone,” he said softly, holding his gaze. Whizzer nodded slightly. 

“Are you going to stay?” he asked. Marvin briefly considered the implications of that, the layers that such a simple question could hold within their syllables. Then, he decided that whatever implication Whizzer had in mind, the answer would be the same. 

“Yes,” he answered confidently. “Yes, if you’ll let me, I’m going to stay.” 

“Yeah,” Whizzer said quietly. “Yeah. It’s okay if you stay.” 

And for that moment, between the two of them in the most uncertain of circumstances, that was enough.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me fucking forever. i'm fairly happy with it though, so I hope you enjoy!

Marvin had stayed. 

Whizzer had told him that he could, and yet the night before he still had been waiting for Marvin to get up and leave. He knew it was coming, and he was prepared for it. He was prepared for it when the nurses came in; he had been sure that they were going to tell him to leave. But three different nurses had filed in and out without so much as a word to the man who sat next to him. And he’d been prepared for it when Marvin’s phone buzzed, too. 

“Jason,” Marvin had said in response to Whizzer’s curious gaze as his eyes flickered between his screen and Whizzer. At the second mention of Jason that day, Whizzer felt his chest tighten again- not in the unpleasant, scary way that it had earlier, but in some familiar heartbreaking way that came from a deeper place than his weak lungs. Marvin seemed to catch something in the silence and looked cautiously back up at Whizzer. 

“He’s with Charlotte’s wife,” Marvin ventured, still unsure whether he’d read that correctly. “Texting me goodnight,” he added. He left it open to Whizzer, who recognized it as such and hesitated for only a moment before taking the opportunity. 

“How is he?” Whizzer asked. He watched in fascination as a smile danced across Marvin’s features at the thought of his son. Marvin shook his head, marveling at even the idea of Jason and Whizzer realized that the tightness in his chest had shifted, making way for something warmer and gentler to rest there. As he listened to Marvin talk about Jason’s disastrous attempts at playing baseball and the preparations for his bar mitzvah, as well as his proud recollection of how well Jason had been doing in school, Whizzer had wondered what that warmth in his chest meant. 

As he leaned in to look at the photos of Jason on Marvin’s phone, he was pretty sure that he knew. 

When Whizzer woke up the morning after his arrival at the hospital, he had expected Marvin to be gone. It made sense for Marvin to have waited for him to fall asleep before he left, but surely the bubble had been burst and Whizzer would be alone again. Perhaps, he considered as he lie there with his eyes closed, it had all been just a wild dream in the first place. Perhaps Marvin had never been there at all, and perhaps Whizzer would have even managed to convince himself of that except- 

Marvin had stayed. 

As Whizzer rose to awareness, he could feel a weight against the mattress at his hip and when he pried his dark eyes open and blinked against the light, the man in question came into focus. Marvin was still in the chair by the bed, leaning over the edge of the mattress with his arms folded and his head resting on the top. His face was turned toward Whizzer, and strands of his unruly curls were illuminated by the early morning light that streamed in from the eastern-facing window behind him, while his normally tense features had evened out in sleep and he suddenly bore a striking resemblance to his son. In that moment, Whizzer could almost forget that they were in this hospital, and that his whole life potentially hung in the balance. He took a moment to watch Marvin at rest, thinking back on their whole disaster of a relationship. He still wasn’t entirely sure what it meant that Marvin was here with him now, or what it would lead to, and he supposed if it came down to it he wasn’t even certain yet what he wanted it to mean. Right then, all he wanted was to exist there like that forever, to stay right here watching Marvin sleep. And he had to wonder if that was why Marvin hadn’t taken his eyes off of Whizzer for more than a few minutes since he’d gotten there yesterday evening. 

Now, Whizzer reached out and gently threaded his fingers through Marvin’s hair. He still felt terrible and he was exhausted in spite of the sleep he’d just woken from. But right then, burying his fingers in Marvin’s warm curls, he felt a rush of pure affection that seemed to overpower it all. As he watched, Marvin slowly began to wake; he leaned into Whizzer’s touch in half-consciousness, and then his eyelashes fluttered open and he looked around briefly in adorable vague confusion before his eyes landed on Whizzer and his vision cleared. There was something about that, the warm recognition and shining clarity and soft smile, that sent Whizzer’s heart racing in his chest. He smiled slightly. 

“Hi,” he said, reluctantly withdrawing his head. As he watched Marvin wince as he straightened up and stretched, a twinge of guilt flickered over him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. Marvin, looking vaguely surprised, chuckled lightly and nodded. 

“I think I should be asking you that,” he replied. Whizzer shrugged. 

“I don’t know yet,” he answered, and a shadow passed over Marvin’s face. But before he had a chance to say anything, there was a light knock on the door and then Charlotte was there. 

“Hey there,” she said evenly. She managed a smile for the both of them, but she was fooling no one; the atmosphere in the room was dense and heavy, the golden moments Whizzer had just experience fading away so quickly that they might not have been there at all. 

“Charlotte,” Marvin said. 

“You look like a wreck,” Charlotte said honestly. She sighed and looked over at Whizzer, then back at Marvin. “Why don’t you go get some coffee, breakfast,” she suggested. Marvin opened his mouth to argue, but Charlotte was ahead of the game on that one. She held up her hand and shook her head. 

“Marvin, I promise he’s not going anywhere,” she said. “I have to speak with him about his test results and you can’t be here for this conversation. Go get some coffee and something to eat, and then come back. Alright?” 

Marvin sighed in defeat, and then looked over at Whizzer. He’d stayed up until he absolutely couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer, just watching Whizzer sleep. Now, he still looked exhausted and Marvin could see the fear in his eyes, fear that made him want to sit at Whizzer’s side and refuse to move. However, Whizzer turned to him and offered him a brave attempt at a smile. 

“Here’s your chance to escape,” he said wryly. Marvin couldn’t manage a smile back for him, not just then. Instead he just shook his head. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” he said softly. Whizzer’s gaze softened, then, and he nodded. 

“Okay,” he replied. His eyes followed Marvin until he was out the door and it had shut with a soft snap behind him, then turned to Charlotte. 

“Am I dying?” he asked bluntly. There was a tense half-second that seemed to drag on forever. Then, Charlotte shook her head. 

“No, Whizzer,” she replied. “You’re not dying.” 

Whizzer took a breath. He wasn’t dying. He turned that over in his head for a moment there in the quiet with Charlotte waiting patiently at his side. He didn’t know what to think; he realized in that moment that he had been fully expecting a yes. He’d half come to terms with that overnight, and now he wasn’t quite sure where to turn. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Okay, so then what?” 

He took a good look at Charlotte, who still looked nervous and grave. And then it occurred to him; maybe this was worse. Maybe that news would have been preferable to whatever Charlotte had to say to him now. And just like that, the nerves were back and Whizzer’s anxious mind had whirled to life once more. 

“Whizzer, you have pneumonia, which is the surface problem,” Charlotte said. “The deeper problem is that you’re HIV positive.” 

Whizzer stared at her. He thought back instantly to the afternoon before, when Charlotte had first met him and had inquired as to his sexual activity, and suddenly it all made sense. Whizzer, once again, wasn’t sure what to think. While Charlotte remained quiet to give him a moment, Whizzer’s mind landed on Marvin. And then he wondered- how long had he been HIV positive? And with that thought, it was as if ice water rushed through Whizzer’s veins. His brain whirled wildly at the idea of telling Marvin about this, of Marvin needing to get tested, and worst of all, of Marvin- the same man who had hurled insults at him day in and day out, the same man who had rushed to his side after two years of no contact to sit with him all night just so he wouldn’t be alone- being HIV positive himself. HIV was no longer a death sentence, but it wasn’t nothing. Whizzer swallowed hard at the knowledge that this could mean a lifetime of change not only for him, but also for Marvin. 

“So I’m going to be okay?” he asked. 

“I think so,” Charlotte answered carefully. “We’re going to have to watch you carefully. You’re still very sick, Whizzer.” 

“Right,” he muttered. “Um, okay.” He looked up at Charlotte and met her eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, and Charlotte held his gaze, steady in spite of the war that raged within her, the ache that rested in her chest at delivering this news to him. 

“Of course,” she replied. 

“Marvin- has he really changed?” 

Charlotte didn’t hesitate on that one. 

“He has,” she answered. “Take the time to get to know him, Whizzer. He’s not the man he was two years ago.” 

With that, she stood and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, looking down at him. 

“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered reassuringly. “Both of you.” She smiled warmly. “I’ll be back to talk over some more details with you later on, okay? In the meantime, don’t let Marvin worry too long. I meant it when I said he loves you, Whizzer.” 

And then she had left, and for the second time in as many days, Whizzer was left to think over what she had said; only this time, he knew that the course of his life had been altered permanently. 

What he didn’t know, at least not yet, was exactly how.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter was gonna be short but I think it's actually the longest so far! things are moving along and I'd like to know your thoughts on the decision that Whizzer makes in this chapter...so leave them in a comment :)

Marvin stood in front of a glass case filled with food. He stared down at it and his stomach churned; he wasn’t even a little bit hungry. In fact, the sight of the breakfast sandwiches and convenient little containers of cereal and breakfast bars was enough to make him feel nauseous. Or maybe, he reasoned, he was feeling that way already. Even so, he knew that he would need coffee to function after the night he’d had and he knew that if he drank coffee on an empty stomach it would be even worse so he had dragged himself over here to this corner of the hospital cafeteria to choose something to eat. Now, it had come down to choosing something that he thought he could force himself to eat without throwing up. His eye caught on one of those luridly bright boxes of sugary cereal and he thought immediately of Jason. Jason could eat his weight in those disgusting things. Now, he remembered the night before and sighed. He pulled out his phone and checked the time- 8:15. Too early for Jason to be awake, then, but Cordelia would be. So instead of picking something to eat, he quickly pulled up her contact and hit call, pressing his phone to his ear. After three rings, Cordelia’s familiar bright voice broke over the line. 

“Hi, Marvin!” she chirped. Marvin couldn’t help but smile slightly; Cordelia generally did have that effect on people. Right then, he was thankful for it even more than usual.

“Hi, Delia,” he answered. “I was just calling to check on you and Jason. He didn’t give you too much trouble last night, I hope.” 

Instead of an answer, there was a loud metallic crash that caused Marvin to pull his phone away from his ear briefly. 

“Sorry,” Cordelia said. “I dropped some pans.” Jason, Marvin thought wryly, might be awake after all. 

“Anyway, “she continued happily as if nothing had happened, “Jason didn’t give me any trouble at all. He’s a great kid, and he even likes my cookies!” 

Marvin wasn’t so sure about that, and he was pretty certain that Jason was playing some sort of long game with that move, but he was way too tired to try to piece it together just then. He made a mental note to ask Jason about it later, though; he didn’t want his son doing anything that would eventually hurt Cordelia’s feelings. 

“I’m glad,” he said. “Thank you again for watching him. I’ll be there to pick him up around lunchtime.” He hated the idea of leaving Whizzer, but he knew that he couldn’t impose on Cordelia either, not to mention that it was unfair to leave Jason there with no real explanation. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Cordelia answered. He could almost see her waving her hand in dismissal, and smiled slightly. “He’s welcome to stay as long as you need him to.” 

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely. “But I think Charlotte might disagree.” Cordelia laughed, but then turned serious. 

“How’s Whizzer?” she asked softly. Marvin sighed. 

“I don’t really know,” he admitted. The night before felt vaguely like a dream; he could hardly believe that Whizzer was letting Marvin anywhere near him, and some part of him was fearful that when he got back to the room Whizzer’s first order of business would be to send Marvin away, having come to his senses in the older man’s absence. Not that Marvin could blame him; it would be exactly what he deserved. 

“He’s sick,” he admitted. “But um, Charlotte is with him right now, talking about test results. So I guess if he decides to tell me I’ll know more when I go back up there.” Even saying it aloud made Marvin feel sick; he didn’t want to think about what Charlotte could be telling Whizzer right then, and yet it was the only thing that he could think about at all. He thought that maybe, he could just stand here in front of his strangely bright glass case of mediocre breakfast food forever, and then he would never have to face what was wrong with Whizzer. 

“Oh,” Cordelia said softly, and just like that reality had set in again and Marvin sighed. 

“Yeah.” He caught sight of a plain bagel, lying forlornly in the last row of choices, and decided instantly that he was going to buy it. 

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back to get Jason, okay? Or text,” he said to Cordelia. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “Hey, Marvin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I hope he’s okay,” she said. Marvin swallowed hard. 

“Thanks, Cordelia,” he breathed. “Me, too.” 

And then the call was over and Marvin was alone again, pointing to the lonely, dry, plain bagel in the corner. As he watched the attendant get it for him and charge him what he thought was too much for a cup of coffee and a bagel that had been baked several days earlier, Marvin was thinking of Whizzer. And of himself, and of how much time they had missed because Marvin had been such an ass. And now, in this bizarre, cruel twist of fate, he found himself at Whizzer’s side with the potential to show him that he mattered and it might all be ripped away again in the worst way. Marvin had not missed the look on Charlotte’s face as she’d come into the room, the tense way that she carried herself. He’d spent time with Charlotte nearly every day of the last two years; he knew when something was wrong. And this morning? Something was definitely wrong. 

Marvin sat down and tore off a piece of dry bagel, glancing at his watch and beginning to count down the minutes until he could reasonably return to Whizzer’s room. 

 

Whizzer had been sitting in silence since Charlotte had left. Mostly, he’d just been thinking about Marvin, and what this all could mean for him. Whizzer had definitely noticed a change in Marvin; it was utterly impossible not to. He was so much gentler, and so much kinder. He cared now, and not only that but he seemed to have learned how to express it, too. It was almost too good to be true and as Whizzer looked at the now-empty chair that Marvin had slept in, he wondered vaguely if it was. He thought it over in his mind, pictured telling Marvin that he was HIV positive, and that Marvin might need to get tested. The thought of having that conversation made his skin crawl. He thought about how nice it had been, waking up to Marvin there next to him- this new, soft, gentle Marvin with all of the old Marvin’s best traits and none of the toxic ones. He liked that, more than he could have imagined he would. In the short time span of the twelve hours he’d been there, Whizzer could already feel himself starting to fall for Marvin all over again, and in a different way than he had before. The thought of telling him this, of upsetting the fragile balance that he could feel being built around them, made Whizzer feel sick. He pictured Marvin reverting back to the way he had been- angry, dark, hurtful. He pictured Marvin hating him all over again, pictured him standing from that very chair and leaving- and he let out a shuddering breath. No sooner had he resolved that he couldn’t tell Marvin- at least, not yet, because he needed more time- had Marvin himself returned and Whizzer’s chest twisted at his brave attempt at a smile as he reappeared in the doorway. 

Pull it together, he told himself. You only get one more shot at this. 

“Hi,” he said with his own small smile at Marvin, as genuine as he could muster. He could do this, he told himself. He had to. 

“Hey,” Marvin answered, slightly awkward and adorably concerned. It made Whizzer almost regret the decision to keep the news from him, but one thought back at the idea of Marvin walking away and he reminded himself that it was necessary. He couldn’t risk it- he needed just a little bit more time. 

“Mind if I sit?” Marvin asked. 

“Oh, of course,” Whizzer replied, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the chair. He coughed as Marvin sat down, and between breaths, he caught a glimpse of Marvin worrying his lower lip between his teeth, anxious blue eyes on Whizzer. 

“Whizzer?” Marvin asked uncertainly a moment later when the coughing had still barely let up. He looked on the verge of doing something, though Whizzer didn’t know what. 

“No,” Whizzer breathed. “I’m okay.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Marvin,” Whizzer said softly as the coughing slowed to a rattling breath. His chest heaved with the effort, but it was passing and in that moment he found that he was more worried about Marvin than himself; the poor guy looked utterly terrified, and it made Whizzer appreciate what he must have overcome to calm him the day before. 

“Whiz, I’m-” Marvin began, but Whizzer, still unable to fully speak, held his hand out to Marvin instead. Marvin looked at it for a few seconds, as if the concept of what Whizzer was doing was foreign to him. Then, he slowly took Whizzer’s hand with an anxious look at his face to be sure that he was reading the situation correctly. Whizzer squeezed his hand lightly, comfortingly, and then they both waited in silence for a few more moments, save for Whizzer’s uneven breathing. Then, when Whizzer was confident he could speak again, he turned to Marvin with soft dark eyes. 

“I’m okay,” he whispered, sounding hoarse. Marvin tore his eyes away from Whizzer with great effort to look around for water- they normally kept water in hospital rooms, didn’t they? He finally caught the cup of water he’d been looking for and reluctantly let go of Whizzer’s hand to retrieve it, handing it over to Whizzer. He was rewarded with a small, sweet smile that made his heart leap in his chest and when Whizzer had finished sipping on it and set it back down again, he turned to Marvin once more. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

“Yeah,” Marvin replied. He waited for a few seconds, unable to hold himself back any longer. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. Whizzer looked over at him, studying Marvin’s earnest features. He looked so different in that moment that Whizzer had to marvel- never had he seen Marvin look so utterly vulnerable as he did just then. Something in his eyes drew Whizzer in like never before, as if the words that Whizzer spoke and the air that he breathed were the sole things that MArvin’s world hinged upon. It was a startling realization that made Whizzer at once unsure and deeply reassured. He smiled slightly, and despite what could have been his better judgement, reached for Marvin’s hand again. Something in the back of his mind told him that he was moving too quickly, that he was overstepping the line, and yet he did it anyway. 

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. He reveled in the cautious relief that appeared on Marvin’s face. 

“You’re okay?” he asked. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Whizzer answered. “I’m fine. I’m gonna be okay.” 

“Then what’s wrong with you?” Marvin asked. “Why are you so sick?”   
“Pneumonia,” Whizzer answered- after all, it wasn’t a lie. 

“Oh,” Marvin breathed. He looked away from Whizzer then, and without his expression there to read, Whizzer found himself nervous there in the silence. He hadn’t considered this, but suddenly he couldn’t help but wonder if Marvin would leave now anyway. If, now that he knew Whizzer wasn’t dying, he would walk away and go back to his life. The thought of it made Whizzer feel shaky and anxious, but he didn’t let on. Instead, he decided to take the opposite tactic. 

“I guess you could go now, if you want,” he said boldly. Marvin’s head snapped up to look at him, and Whizzer was surprised to find that he looked stricken. 

“Go?” he repeated. “Go...where?” 

“Home?” Whizzer guessed with a shrug. “I’m not dying, after all.” 

“I- um,” MArvin struggled to find the words, thrown off by this sudden shift. “Do you want me to go?” he settled on finally. That took Whizzer by surprise. Since when had Marvin asked anyone’s permission for anything? 

 

“I don’t want to keep you here unnecessarily,” he said softly. Marvin studied him for a moment. 

“Whizzer?” he said quietly, waiting until Whizzer and looked up to meet his eyes before continuing. He swallowed his nerves and held himself steady. 

“What?” Whizzer prompted. 

“I have to go and get Jason in a bit, but...I was hoping that it would be alright with you if I came back after that.” 

They looked at one another for a moment, neither of them able to read the other’s expression. And then Whizzer, his heart bursting with a wild mix of emotions, slowly nodded his head. 

“Yeah,” he said. “If you want to, that’s- that’s fine with me.” 

And then Marvin smiled slightly, and held his hand out hesitantly, and Whizzer took it again, tangling his fingers in Marvin’s familiar grip and for just another moment in time, things felt okay.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get some Jason in this chapter! It was originally going to include Mendel and Trina as well but I sort of felt like it didn't really fit. I hope everyone enjoys it :)

As Marvin travelled through the city to get back home to pick up Jason, he thought back on the morning he’d spent with Whizzer and as he did so, he couldn’t help but think that something about it felt off. When he’d come back to the room, something had felt different. And as relieved as he was that Whizzer was going to be alright, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something Whizzer wasn’t telling him. 

He couldn’t really blame Whizzer for that, though, could he? 

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and sighed. He couldn’t blame Whizzer if he was keeping something quiet. That would have been entirely unfair of him, to expect Whizzer to just trust him implicitly, given their history and his sudden reappearance. In all honesty, Marvin was still expecting Whizzer to kick him out any time now. As he battled traffic to get back to his apartment building, he was wishing he had taken Jason’s advice and gone for the subway. Marvin hated everything about driving in the city, but he kept doing it anyway because it was familiar. He should stop, he thought as he got stuck in yet another line of cars that didn’t seem eager to abide by any of the set traffic laws. And right then, Marvin resolved to get rid of the car- or at least just stop trying to drive everywhere. It made him miserable anyway, and something about this whole whirlwind of a day made him think about things differently. There was, after all, only so much time in which to be happy. 

When he finally made it home, he paused in the car to collect himself. Facing Jason was an obstacle in and of itself. The kid was a genius, essentially, and incredibly perceptive. At the same time, he was just a kid. Marvin didn’t want to give him any more reason to worry than he had to, and dropping him off back at Trina’s early was certainly reason enough. Plus, Marvin knew that the next hour would consist of a barrage of questions. Jason, in addition to being the smartest, was the most relentless person that Marvin had ever known. Except perhaps for Whizzer. The two of them together had been a nightmare, and yet now Marvin had to stop himself from getting too hopeful that he might have a chance to see Jason and Whizzer together again. It was too soon, too much, too quick to be thinking along those lines. At least, that’s what he was failing to convince himself of as he made his way to Cordelia’s apartment. 

When he knocked on the door, it was only a matter of seconds before he was greeted by Cordelia’s bright smile. 

“Hey,” she said happily. “Come in, Jason’s in the kitchen.” As she shut the door behind him, she watched him carefully. 

“How is he?” she asked, and Marvin felt himself nodding his head purely to have something to do. 

“He’s...he’s okay,” Marvin replied. “When I got back, he told me that Charlotte had said he has pneumonia.” 

“Pneumonia,” Cordelia repeated. “That’s good then, right? Charlotte can help him?” 

“Yeah,” Marvin replied. “At least, I think so. He said he was going to be fine, so...yeah, it’s good.” 

“Good,” Cordelia beamed. “And...now you can stop pining for him and win him back.” 

“What?” Marvin asked, but Cordelia just laughed, dragging him with her into the kitchen without further elaboration. On the other side of the kitchen island sat Jason, and he looked up and met Marvin’s gaze. 

“Hi, Dad,” he said nonchalantly. Marvin took in the scene; Cordelia was cooking and Jason was eating and everything seemed so remarkably normal that he could almost forget that his whole world had been shifted on its axis by none other than the man who had always managed to turn everything upside down. 

“Hey, Jason,” he replied. “You ready to go?” 

“Not really,” Jason answered, even as he hopped down from the bar stool that he was sitting on. 

“Cordelia is way more fun than you, and she’s definitely more fun than Mom and Mendel,” Jason explained. He grabbed his backpack from where it sat beside the chair, clearly having retrieved it from Marvin’s apartment sometime between when Marvin had left and now. Marvin rolled his eyes as Cordelia failed to hide her laughter. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Marvin said. “Tell Cordelia thank you for letting you stay.” 

“Dad, I’m not a kid; I was going to tell her,” Jason insisted. Still, he turned in Cordelia’s direction with a last angry look at Marvin. 

“Thank you for letting me stay,” he told her obediently. Jason, though snarky, was truly a good kid and Marvin couldn’t help but smile slightly, watching him. Cordelia lit up in response and pulled Jason in for a quick hug. 

“You are welcome any time,” she said. “Oh! And I have some cookies you can take with you.” 

Marvin watched Jason carefully, remembering his earlier mental note to be on the lookout for that situation. But Jason just smiled and thanked Cordelia as she handed them to him. 

“Alright, let’s get going, then,” Marvin said. “Charlotte will be home soon.” She had been the one to run him out of Whizzer’s hospital room for the second time, telling him that she had a few things to touch base with Whizzer about and that it was the perfect opportunity for Marvin to go and retrieve his child from her house. 

Marvin had left a little reluctantly, with Whizzer offering him a small smile. 

“Are you coming back?” Whizzer had asked suddenly, and Marvin had turned sharply at the door. 

“I- yeah,” he answered, maybe a little too quickly. “Yeah. I’ll be back.” 

“Okay,” Whizzer had said, and Marvin had definitely not missed Charlotte’s look between the two of them before he had been out the door, something hopeful stirring in his chest. 

Now, as he and Jason left the apartment building, his son headed in the direction of the car, but Marvin reached out a hand to stop him, and was met with a questioning look. 

“We’re taking the subway to your mom’s place,” Marvin explained. Jason raised his eyebrows. 

“Man, Whizzer really did a number on you,” he remarked, and turned around quickly, heading in the direction of the subway stop while a stunned Marvin stared after him, trying to process that. After a moment of stillness, he jogged to catch up with Jason, falling into step with him. 

“What?” Marvin asked, a little breathless. He really should start working out, though maybe all the walking to subway stops would be helpful. Jason shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Whizzer,” he reiterated. “He’s got you taking the subway overnight. He works quickly.” 

“Whizzer,” Marvin repeated stupidly. “Kid, what- what makes you think Whizzer has anything to do with this?” 

Jason laughed. 

“You’re so obvious, Dad,” he said. It was vaguely condescending, but Marvin was too flummoxed to care in that moment. 

“Is he okay?” Jason asked after a moment of silence, suddenly a little more sincere and sounding just slightly anxious. Marvin finally recovered enough at that, nodding his head. 

Yeah,” he replied as he briefly wrapped his arm around Jason. “He’s fine.” 

“He’s in the hospital,” Jason said. 

“Right, well...he will be fine,” Marvin amended. 

Jason looked as if he were about to ask a question, but held back. Marvin found himself a little taken aback, and maybe just a little emotional at the maturity Jason was showing in that moment. Once, he’d been unable to stop asking questions long enough to breathe, and now Marvin found that maybe he missed that in a way that he had never expected to. 

“Why are you eating those cookies?” Marvin asked. 

Jason looked up at him with a wicked smile. 

“I’m not telling you,” he said resolutely. And Marvin shook his head, knowing this was a mystery he might not ever solve. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, and Jason looked up at him. “Don’t worry about Whizzer, alright?” 

“Because...you’re going back to stay with him?” Jason ventured. “That’s why I have to go back to Mom’s, right?” 

“Yeah,” Marvin answered. “I am.” 

“Don’t-” Jason sighed, looking down at his tennis shoes as he scuffed one of them against the subway platform. 

“Don’t what?” Marvin prompted. 

“Don’t make him leave again,” Jason said softly. Marvin took a slow breath. 

“Don’t worry, Jason,” he said quietly. “That’s not going to happen.” 

And then the two of them had reached a silent understanding, and on the way to Trina’s house, Jason sat quietly and ate one of Cordelia’s cookies while Marvin stared at the reflective dark glass and wondered what exactly he was getting himself into. 

 

“Did you tell him?” 

Whizzer had been anticipating the question from Charlotte, but he still didn’t like hearing it. He was in pain and exhausted, and he really didn’t want to have that conversation just then. 

“No,” he admitted. 

“Whizzer-” 

“I know,” he snapped, “I’m going to tell him.” 

“You need to,” Charlotte said, not unkindly. 

“I know!” Whizzer exclaimed. The energy that the outburst took elicited another fit of harsh coughing, and as he curled in on himself he found himself wishing that Marvin were there. This only served to make him more frustrated with himself; he’d been just fine without Marvin for two years, and now Marvin was all he could think about. 

“Whizzer, here,” Charlotte said patiently, insisting on wrapping an oxygen mask over his face even as he tried to bat her away. Eventually, the coughing stopped but it left Whizzer feeling weak and dizzy, not to mention the way his chest ached. 

“You haven’t been eating,” Charlotte remarked. 

“I know,” Whizzer whispered; it was all he had the breath for. 

“You should be,” Charlotte answered. 

“I know,” he repeated. She eyed him discerningly. 

“Whizzer, give him a chance,” she sighed. “He’s not going anywhere. And the next time that you’re given food, you need to eat it. You’re going to kill yourself otherwise.” 

“I’m not hungry, and you didn't know him before,” Whizzer hissed angrily. He wasn’t even sure where the anger was coming from, but something about Charlotte’s presence right then was somehow infuriating. 

“I know you’re tired, and I know that it hurts,” she said patiently. “But if you’re feeling sick we can give you something to make eating easier. And as for Marvin, you’re right. I didn’t know him before, but I do know him now.” She met his eyes. “The only way he leaves you now is if you tell him to.” 

Whizzer turned away from her, seething but unable to justify it. He didn’t like that she was so sure of herself, mostly because she was right about so much of it. She was correct in thinking that he was afraid of Marvin leaving him, and that alone made him angry. He didn’t want to need Marvin. And yet, after a few hours of being with him, he did. He needed Marvin, and he wanted Marvin, and he wanted to believe that Charlotte was right in saying that it was safe to love Marvin again, but...he just couldn’t quite get his head around that. 

“He’s yours, Whizzer,” Charlotte said softly. “Get some rest, okay? We’re starting you on the medication that you’re going to be taking to combat your HIV today.” 

His HIV. That alone was enough to make Whizzer feel like crying. Somehow, it was all beginning to set in on him and he frantically blinked back tears, hoping to compose himself before Charlotte could have a chance to notice. However, he was far too late for that. 

“If you tell him,” she began gently, “he’ll be there for this. I promise.” 

And with that she was gone and Whizzer was left all by himself, torn between how desperately he wanted Marvin there and how terrified he was of that very thing. Coming here, it seemed, had been just the beginning and Whizzer couldn’t help but wonder just what he was getting himself into.


	8. Eight

Marvin wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he walked back into Whizzer’s hospital room after having left to take Jason back to Trina and Mendel’s. What he did know for sure was that this, what he was faced with with, was definitely not what he had expected. As he stood in the doorway, he watched the scene before him with a mounting feeling of panic inside his chest. On the bed, right where he’d left him, Whizzer was sitting with his knees drawn to his chest, and if Marvin watched closely he could see Whizzer’s shoulders shaking as he cried. 

Marvin tried to recall every having seen Whizzer in a state this deeply vulnerable, and failed. It left him feeling useless, standing there watching Whizzer and not knowing what to do. He wanted to help- needed to help- and yet for a moment he stood rooted to the spot in fear of somehow making it worse. But when Whizzer drew in a shaky, shuddering breath that Marvin could hear from the doorway, he found that his need to do something outweighed his fear and he stepped into the room. 

“Whiz?” he asked softly. Whizzer jumped lightly, looking around in vague panic at Marvin. 

“I’m-” he began, but Marvin shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said. He sat down hesitantly at the edge of Whizzer’s bed, looking at him. Up close, he could see the red rims around Whizzer’s normally lively dark eyes. Tear tracks streaked his cheeks and he looked so remarkably young in that moment that all Marvin could think of was how desperately he wanted to protect Whizzer from anything that could make him feel the way he looked just then. It was a similar feeling to the way he felt about Jason, and the force of it caught him off guard. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. 

“Nothing,” Whizzer said, tearing his gaze away from Marvin to look down at the poorly made, thin blanket on his hospital bed. He could nearly feel Marvin watching him, and heat crept into his cheeks. He’d meant to keep track of the time, having estimated how long it would take Marvin to return and fully intending to have composed himself by then. It seemed, however, that he’d either miscalculated or lost track of the time entirely because here Marvin was, and Whizzer was still crying. 

“Whizzer,” Marvin implored. Something in his voice, some quality of tenderness that was new and unfamiliar, drew Whizzer’s eyes to his. And as Whizzer held the gaze of the blue eyes that, once so cold, now held what seemed like infinite warmth, he could feel tears rising again, pricking the back of his tired eyes and causing his breath to catch. If it was possible, Marvin’s gaze softened even farther. 

“Hey,” he whispered, reaching for Whizzer’s hand. “Hey. You’re okay.” 

And as his fingers made contact with Whizzer’s, Whizzer broke. 

He leaned forward, a choked sob catching in his throat and tearing air from his lungs that he didn’t have to spare. Marvin, reflexively, caught Whizzer by his trembling shoulders and then before either of them were fully aware of what was happening, Whizzer was wrapped in Marvin’s arms. 

“Shh,” Marvin said softly. “You’re okay. It’s going to be alright.” 

And Whizzer just cried, because Marvin sounded so sure and the truth of it all was buried deeply between them, in a place where only Whizzer could access it and Marvin knew none of it. It made Whizzer feel incredibly guilty, to be taking in Marvin’s comfort and quiet reassurances while knowing that he was, for all intents and purposes, lying to him. 

Another choked cry set Whizzer off and he began to cough, Marvin drawing back slightly to sit next to him, all but holding him up as his exhausted body shook in Marvin’s arms. Marvin, his gaze flickering from the pained expression on Whizzer’s face to the door, had more than half a mind to go and get help. But Whizzer was holding tightly to him, almost desperately, and to leave him there like that would have been nearly impossible. So he just stayed, and prayed to a god that he wasn’t sure he believed in that the coughing would stop on its own so Marvin didn’t have to move. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.” 

Marvin himself was trying desperately to believe those words even as he said them to Whizzer. He hadn’t been so sure to begin with, and now after having come back to find Whizzer like this, he was even less so. Something didn’t feel right, and as he ran his hand over Whizzer’s back he swallowed hard. He couldn’t blame Whizzer for keeping things from him, but the idea that Whizzer was suffering because he didn’t feel like he could trust Marvin made him want to cry. They’d both been thrust back into this so quickly that they were drowning in it, but Marvin found with surprising certainty that he would rather have drowned in Whizzer than lose his chance altogether. And that was the thought that kept him there at Whizzer’s side, despite the gnawing, increasing fear that Whizzer was dying and had just decided not to tell Marvin. 

Which brought an even more pressing question to his mind; did it matter? Did it make a difference whether Whizzer was dying or not? Would it change anything about his decision? And as he watched Whizzer struggle for breath and brought his hand up to run soothingly through his hair, Marvin realized that he knew the answer with dawning clarity. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured again, and Whizzer gripped his hand tightly. And the answer, Marvin decided then, didn’t need to be spoken. It was there already. 

 

“What’s Jason doing here?” 

Mendel was speaking quietly to Trina in the kitchen of their home, while shooting a glance of his dark eyes toward the living room. Having just arrived home from taking a trip to the grocery store, Mendel had been more than a little surprised to find his stepson sitting on the couch in the living room, playing on his phone. 

“Hmm?” Trina answered distractedly as she stared into the depths of the kitchen cabinets despite knowing that there was really nothing in there at all; after all, she had been the one to send her willing husband to the grocery store in the first place. 

“Why is Jason home?” Mendel repeated. “He’s supposed to be at Marvin’s.” Her ex’s name drew Trina from her reverie and she turned toward Mendel with a sigh, brushing back a strand of her dark hair. 

“Marvin brought him home early,” she replied. “Because he’s got a friend in the hospital.” 

“A friend,” Mendel repeated, not really a question but more a perplexed statement. 

“Mmhmm,” Trina hummed knowingly. She leaned against the kitchen counter, resting her hands on the edge with her wrists turned out. Her hair pulled back, dressed more casually than she had ever been when Mendel first met her, he couldn’t help but think her beautiful even in the moment. He wondered vaguely if that was an odd thought to have in the midst of a conversation about her ex-husband, but quickly decided not to think too hard about that. 

“Who could it be?” Mendel wondered aloud instead, and Trina shook her head knowingly. 

“Oh, I know who it is,” she remarked lightly, and Mendel looked up at her in surprise. 

“You do?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she answered, turning toward the kitchen sink to wash her hands, half to have something to do and half because she thought she should before putting away the groceries. 

“Who?” Mendel asked. Trina smiled slightly. 

“The only person Marvin has ever been willing to drop anything for,” she replied. “Except Jason,” she added, to be fair to Marvin. 

“Who- oh.” 

Mendel, it seemed, had finally caught on. 

“Whizzer?” he said quietly. 

“I assume so,” Trina agreed. “I don’t know, ask Jason if you want. But I’d bet Whizzer.” 

“Do you think he’s okay?” Mendel asked, and as Trina let the hot water run over her hands, she briefly contemplated the question. Did she think Whizzer was okay? She didn’t know. She hadn’t thought about it very much. But now, a more pressing question posed itself to her. Did she care? She thought about that, sighed, and turned the water off, drying her hands as she turned to Mendel. 

“I hope so,” she answered softly, kissing him lightly on the cheek before she slipped past him to unpack the groceries, leaving Mendel there to ponder the whole situation. 

 

Meanwhile in another apartment, Charlotte was finally getting home. Cordelia, half-covered in flour, smiled brightly at her and Charlotte returned it in a softer, more tired fashion. Just the sight of Cordelia melted away a little of her stress, but even as she slipped gratefully out of her shoes and greeted her wife with a warm, familiar kiss, she couldn’t help but dwell on the kind of day it had been. She’d left the hospital knowing that Marvin was going to come back and sit there for as long as he could get away with it, but as she sat down in her living room and took a deep breath, she could only hope that Whizzer would use the time wisely. 

The fact of the matter was, Marvin needed to know. Not only for Whizzer’s sake, but for his own. She trusted that Whizzer would tell him, but she wished he would get on with it. While Charlotte couldn’t pretend to understand his situation, she found herself anxious. Knowing something like this and keeping it a secret, especially when it so closely concerned not only her patient but someone that she cared about as well, was Charlotte’s least favorite part of this job. 

“Marvin said that Whizzer has pneumonia,” Charlotte was saying. Charlotte nodded. This part, she decided, was the worst of the whole situation. 

“He does,” she replied, taking the cookie that Cordelia offered cautiously. 

“So you’ll be able to help him, right?” Cordelia asked. Charlotte smiled slightly at the concerned tone of Cordelia’s voice. She was sure that Marvin had already answered this question, and yet here Cordelia was, still as concerned as before. It was one of the things that Charlotte loved most about her; Cordelia cared so deeply and thoroughly, and her capacity to love everyone around her even without having met them more than made up for the sometimes questionable confections she created. 

“I will,” Charlotte answered reassuringly, leaning in to capture Cordelia’s lips in a kiss. 

“Good,” Cordelia whispered as they broke apart. Then, she smiled. 

“Marvin loves him,” she said quietly. 

“I know,” Charlotte chuckled. And then, she turned momentarily pensieve, thinking back on the time she’d spent with Whizzer over the course of the last two days. 

“I think,” she added quietly, “that he loves Marvin, too.”


	9. Nine

Whizzer was asleep again. 

The coughing and the crying, it seemed, had tired him out. When he’d finally managed to breathe again, he’d looked up at Marvin, his face a myriad of emotions. 

“Marvin?” he asked softly, and Marvin had met his gaze. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Whizzer’s question had felt heavy; like Marvin’s answer would determine something important, but he didn’t know what. It felt a little like one of those dreams, the ones where you’re falling and falling and there’s no end in sight and you always wake up before you find out where you would have landed. But Marvin had just swallowed, told himself that this was not the time to back down out of fear, and run his fingers through Whizzer’s hair. 

“Because second chances are rare,” he whispered. “And I really messed up the first time.” 

Whizzer had just stared at him. He blinked twice, just watching, his face betraying nothing. And just when Marvin had started to get nervous, he spoke again. 

“Can you just...sit right there?” Whizzer asked softly. Marvin had never fully understood the phrase ‘heart-melting’ like he did just then, and he offered Whizzer a soft smile. 

“Of course,” he said. “Get some rest, Whizzer.” And with that, Whizzer had laid his head against Marvin’s chest and had not moved since.

Marvin had not been there for even a full twenty-four hours, and yet it felt in some ways like a whole lifetime. That, he had discovered, was one of the strange effects of hospitals. Time ceased to exist as it did outside those walls; hours could feel like lifetimes and minutes could pass by with wild rapidity. 

As he continued to absentmindedly run his fingers through a sleeping Whizzer’s hair, he thought back on the whole strange affair, and knew that he wouldn’t do a moment of it differently. Yet, something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong and in the time span that existed within these thinly papered walls and sickening hushed corridors, it felt as if he’d been sitting with it for decades. He listened to Whizzer’s ragged breathing, looked at the less than half-eaten tray of food by the door, and wondered how much longer he could take the not knowing. Earlier, Jason had asked him if Whizzer would be okay. And Marvin had reassured the child, had even told him not to worry. Yet, he himself was worried; in fact, he was very worried. He couldn’t help but be, because it was all just so wrong. Pneumonia, he thought, made sense. It did. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Whizzer was lying. 

He looked down at the man who had once seemed larger than life, now curled up like a little kid in his arms, and his heart ached. He found that at the core of all the confusion and fear was a simple principle. At the core of it all, he just wanted Whizzer to be okay. And for now, he seemed to be. Just for right now. So Marvin rested his cheek against the top of Whizzer’s head and closed his eyes, finding that sleep claimed him almost immediately- and he let it, because just for right now, Whizzer seemed okay. 

 

Whizzer awoke alone. 

Completely alone. 

Darkness had fallen outside, and within an instant of being awake, Whizzer knew that something was wrong. Something was missing, something...something important. But his head was so fuzzy, and he couldn’t place what it was. Panic rose up within him and he looked around frantically. Everything felt so wrong. The very air around him seemed to oppress him, closing in on him with some dark force. 

And then it hit him; Marvin. Marvin was missing. And the panic increased, so much so that Whizzer couldn’t breathe. He looked around desperately, but the room was as empty as he’d first thought. The small adjoining bathroom was dark and no sign of life existed within the space, save for Whizzer himself. He looked around, unable to locate his cell phone, either. He couldn’t remember where he had put it, but it wasn’t in sight and he just thought that maybe he could find it and...well...somehow locate Marvin that way. The realization that he had never even gotten Marvin’s phone number only worried Whizzer farther. His mind raced with possibilities as he moved toward the edge of the bed, intending to maneuver the IV enough to look on the floor for his phone. 

What if Marvin had just left? What if he’d been able to tell Whizzer was lying? What if he had just given up or decided that Whizzer wasn’t worth it after all? For someone with an exterior as confident as Whizzer, he was deeply insecure and the thought that Marvin had just left him was not an unlikely one as far as he was concerned. 

But if he could only find-

Whizzer stopped cold. He’d managed to move to the edge of the hospital room mattress and there, on the floor, crumpled in a way that told Whizzer he couldn’t be asleep, was Marvin. Whizzer’s heart raced- he could hear the monitor beeping with alarming rapidity- and he dropped to his knees in utter panic. 

“Marvin,” he breathed. “Marvin, no. Marvin-” 

When Whizzer shook his shoulder frantically, Marvin remained motionless and Whizzer could feel tears rising to his dark eyes. 

“Marvin,” he sobbed. This, he was sure, was all his fault. Marvin was sick too, that had to be it, and it was all Whizzer’s fault and maybe if he had just told him, this could have been avoided. 

“Help,” Whizzer called uselessly; his voice was too damaged from coughing to be heard. 

“Marvin, no, you can’t- Marvin,” he sobbed helplessly. And Marvin stayed still. More still than anyone should ever be, no matter how Whizzer pleaded with him or shook him. And the doorway stayed empty and quiet in spite of Whizzer’s half-sobbing pleas for assistance. He couldn’t just let it end this way, he thought in utter despair. It couldn’t end this way and yet- 

“Marvin!” 

At first, Marvin was unsure what had woken him up. In the dazed seconds of early consciousness, he struggled to put the pieces together. But then, familiar fingers closed with a vice like grip around the fabric of his shirt and it all came flooding right back to him. He looked down at Whizzer, curled up next to him, and instantly he was much more awake. It wasn’t just Whizzer’s tight grip on Marvin’s shirt that was amiss- something else was very wrong. Whizzer was mumbling incoherent nonsense in his sleep, and everything about him was tense. His breathing was even more uneven now, and when Marvin touched him he jumped. 

“Marvin,” Whizzer mumbled, and Marvin’s heart leapt in his chest, an odd mix of concern and love flooding his chest. 

“Whizzer,” he said quietly. “Whizzer, honey, wake up.” He shook Whizzer gently, but it had no effect. 

“Whiz,” he pressed. “Hey. Whizzer, wake up.” He continued to shake his ex lightly, but it seemed to be his hand on Whizzer’s, still clutching Marvin’s shirt tightly, that did it. Whizzer woke with a start, gasping for air as he scrambled for space with his free hand, still never letting go of Marvin with the other. 

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” Marvin soothed. He brought his hand up to Whizzer’s hair again, running his fingers through the strands. Whizzer looked around wildly, desperately. 

“Marvin,” he gasped, and when he looked up to meet Marvin’s eyes, the older of the two felt his heart drop. He’d never seen Whizzer look so utterly terrified as he did right then, fear in every handsome feature as tears spilled over onto his cheeks for the second time that day. 

“Hey,” Marvin whispered. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

It was all utter nonsense, but Marvin could think of nothing else; the panic on Whizzer’s face was threatening to take Marvin in as well, and he couldn’t let it. Clearly, Whizzer was panicked enough for the both of them. 

“Marvin,” Whizzer whimpered. “You’re- I don’t-” 

“Whizzer, you’re alright. It was just a dream,” he soothed. Whizzer looked torn, as if he felt he should move but couldn’t, his whole body tense and frozen as he struggled for breath. 

“Come here,” Marvin said. “It’s alright, come here.” 

Whizzer had always been physical, and the instinct to comfort him in that way came naturally to Marvin now. Whizzer gave in to it, burying his head against Marvin’s neck as he struggled t control his erratic breathing. 

“Just try to calm down, okay?” Marvin murmured. One part of Whizzer’s nightmare had been real; his heart monitor beeped quickly, and Marvin watched the door, expecting a nurse. 

“Marvin, I didn’t-” 

“Shh,” Marvin pleaded. “Just breathe. We can talk in a minute, Whizzer, it’s okay. Just breathe for now.” 

Considering how hard that was on its own, Whizzer listened. He clung to Marvin like he had never clung to anyone, fingers wrapped firmly around the fabric of Marvin’s lurid button-down. Never before in his life had Whizzer been so glad to see that horrible fabric. Right then, he would have said it was the most beautiful pattern in the world, because it was on a living, breathing Marvin rather than a dead one. 

Marvin wasn’t dead. At least not yet. 

“What’s going on in here?” came a voice from the doorway; a nurse that Marvin recognized from earlier in the day had appeared, looking with concern at the monitor. 

“Nightmare,” Marvin said softly, as Whizzer was still unable to speak from his spot curled up next to Marvin. The nurse looked between Whizzer and the monitor, skeptical for a moment. As Marvin ran a comforting hand up and down Whizzer’s spine, the numbers began to fall and the beeping stopped. 

“If it gets high again, push that button,” she said firmly. “We’ll be back in to check on him soon.” Her meaning was clear, and Marvin nodded gratefully. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. And then she was gone and the two of them were alone again. 

“Hey,” Marvin hummed. “You’re okay.” 

Whizzer felt a rush of immense guilt in the midst of all the fear. He had to tell him. He had to. He didn’t have a choice; Marvin couldn’t end up like that because of him. 

“Marvin,” he managed, reluctantly pulling himself back from Marvin’s chest to look at him through residual tears. 

“What?” Marvin asked, sensing the urgency. 

“I have to tell you something,” Whizzer admitted. 

“Okay, I’m listening,” Marvin said. Whizzer shifted and winced, then looked up again to meet Marvin’s gaze. The tears continued; Whizzer had abandoned his attempts to stem them, as he seemed to have an endless supply. 

“I don’t- I don’t just have pneumonia.” Whizzer felt as if someone else were talking entirely, but he was unable to take his eyes off of Marvin’s face, fear rushing through his veins with every beat of his heart. 

“What?” Marvin asked. He had been sure of that; he had been sure that something else was wrong. But to be faced with it now, like this, in the face of a tearful Whizzer who seemed in so many ways a shell of the spirited person he’d been, was different. It was so much scarier than he could have imagined it would be. He reached for Whizzer’s hand, only to have Whizzer pull it back, and Marvin drew back too, even more worried now. 

“Whizzer, what?” he pressed. 

“I’m- I’m really sorry, Marvin,” he whispered. 

“Sorry for what?” Marvin asked, maybe a little more insistent than he’d meant to be. 

“I’m-” Whizzer choked, but forced the rest of it out. “I’m HIV positive.” 

The silence was ringing, and Whizzer finally looked away. He missed the expression on Marvin’s face, the initial reaction, the in-the-moment emotion. By the time he looked up again, daring a glance through his tears, it was gone. 

“MArvin, s-say something,” Whizzer pleaded. “Anything.” 

“I-” Marvin began, with a fierce shake of his head. “I need to- I just-” 

With that, he reached for Whizzer, then seemed to think twice about it, and drew back again. And then, he stood up. 

“Marvin-” 

“I just-” He shook his head again, let out a breath, and strode across the room to the door, leaving Whizzer there alone with a soft snap of the latch behind him.


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one evening! I'm done for now, I swear!

Marvin couldn’t breathe. 

Within his chest, beyond the walls of confusion and hurt, lie a million more emotions, most of which he couldn’t identify. They all weighed individually on his lungs and he just couldn’t breathe. In the hallway of the hospital, his mind raced and he fought back tears. It was all just so much. In an overwhelming, sad, scary kind of way and emotions raced themselves against his rapid thoughts- thoughts of Whizzer, sick like this forever, dying, hurting, slowly fading away after just a moment in time in which Marvin had thought he would have a chance to fix this. It wasn’t 1980 anymore- HIV was not a death sentence and Marvin knew it. He would have to get tested; that much had occurred to hi somewhere in the mess of tangled thoughts. But it wasn’t his priority just then because he wasn’t sick and Whizzer- 

Whizzer was sick. Whizzer was sick, in the hospital, and HIV positive and what if’s were dominating any shred of positive thought Marvin had been clinging to when ‘something worse’ was just an unformed concept in his head. Now, it was so much more than that. It was right there in front of him, staring him down like some terrifying obstacle that he didn’t have a clue how to navigate. 

Because what if? 

What if it was too late? What if Whizzer died? What if Charlotte couldn’t help him? What if this was it and their second chance was just a cruel moment of hope that was destined to be torn away from them before it even got started? 

Marvin reached for his phone. It was dying; he didn’t have a charger. But it didn’t matter; there was enough battery to make this phone call, and that was the only thing that made a difference to Marvin just then. 

Charlotte picked up on the third ring. 

“Hello?” 

She sounded tired. Marvin didn’t care. 

“He’s HIV positive?” he asked. The words tore into Marvin’s chest like strips of his heard were being shredded away with every syllable. 

“He told you,” Charlotte answered calmly. 

“Yes,” Marvin breathed. “Charlotte, why- why would you let me stay in the dark about this? Why would you let me think things that aren’t true?” 

“Things like what?” Charlotte asked. “Marvin, I couldn’t tell you, that was his place.” 

“Things like- things like that we would get another shot at this,” Marvin said furiously. He had slumped against the wall and slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the cold tile floor. Bizarrely, he noticed that it had a red border and found himself wondering why the hell anyone would bother- it was a hospital, a place where no one but distraught, screwed up men on the floor would notice the strip of red tiling work. 

“Things like that I would get to make this right,” he continued through tears. “Things like that he was going to be okay. I told Jason he was okay, and now-” Marvin broke off and a choked sob broke though his voice. Charlotte softened at the sound. 

“Marvin, he is,” she answered. “He is okay. This isn’t the end. He’s going to be fine. He’s sick, right now, and this is going to affect him forever but he’s not dying.” She paused. “Did he not tell you this?” 

And then it hit Marvin, like a ton of bricks. 

“I-I left,” he said. His voice came out in a whisper, shame and panic tinging the phrase. 

“You what?” Charlotte asked sharply. 

“Oh, god,” Marvin breathed. “I have to- Charlotte, I have to go,” he said. 

“Marvin,” she barked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Get your ass in there and fix this,” she whispered. “He needs you. And if you want even a half chance at a second shot, this is it.” 

Then, she hung up and MArvin took only a half-second to breathe. It hadn’t occurred to him how this all must look to a vulnerable and scared Whizzer, and now that he could see the whole picture clearly, he felt more awful than he had in two years. Without even bothering to wipe his tears away, he stood up and stepped back over to the door. 

Behind it, an unsettling sight met him. Whizzer, sobbing, was sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his underwear, struggling with a pair of pants through gasping, weary breaths. 

“Whizzer,” Marvin said, taking several frantic steps forward. 

“What do you want?” Whizzer cried angrily, looking up at Marvin with a look of such hopeless despair on his face that it brought Marvin to tears instantly. 

“What?” Whizzer demanded. “What do you want from me?” 

“Whizzer-” 

“I’m going home,” Whizzer sobbed. “Because all that I’ve gotten out of this is-” He paused to gasp for breath. “Is this,” he finished with a vague, weak gesture in Marvin’s direction. “You, leaving me again. I can’t- I can’t let you do this to me again, Marvin, I can’t.” 

Marvin took advantage of the break in his rampant speaking to step forward and drop to his knees in front of Whizzer, tears streaming down his cheeks as he reached for Whizzer’s hands, still fighting with the fabric of the pants. 

“Whizzer, I’m so sorry,” Marvin cried. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I’m so sorry.” 

There was silence. Neither of them seemed to breathe as Whizzer, stunned, stared at him. 

“What did you just say?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry,” Marvin sobbed, oblivious to the shock he had elicited within Whizzer. “I’m sorry that I left you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I’m probably the reason this happened to you and I’m sorry that I walked away from you. I’m just- I’m sorry, Whizzer.” 

Whizzer didn’t think he had ever heard Marvin apologize. 

“You left,” he whispered. “I didn’t- I was afraid you would leave but I didn’t think you actually would. And then you did. After what you just saw with the crying and the- I dreamed that you were dead.” 

“What?” Marvin asked, stricken. He watched as Whizzer bit his lip to keep from crying out and longed to wrap him in a hug and hold him there until it was all okay again. 

“You were dead. That’s why I was saying your name, because I found you in here, on the floor like that, and you were dead because of me.” 

“Oh, Whizzer,” Marvin breathed. 

“And then you- you left,” Whizzer said again. Marvin reached for his hand, and Whizzer’s eyes flashed with anger. 

“Oh, now you want to touch me?” he asked. 

“What?” Marvin asked in genuine confusion. 

“Before- you started to touch me and then you didn’t because I’m- I’m- diseased,” Whizzer rambled. Marvin’s heart sank and he sighed. 

“Whizzer, that’s not it at all,” he said. “I would never think of you that way. Not ever, okay?” He paused, reached out and gently took Whizzer’s hand; this time, he let him. “I didn’t touch you because you had pulled away from me,” he explained. “Hey. Look at me.” 

Reluctantly, Whizzer turned his gaze to Marvin. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Marvin said. “I was just so scared, Whizzer.” 

“You might not have it,” Whizzer said,, looking away. 

“No, honey, you- you misunderstand me,” Marvin said. He reached up, fingers trembling, and ran his thumb along Whizzer’s cheekbone, gently pulling his gaze back to him. 

“What do you mean?” Whizzer whispered. Marvin smiled faintly. 

“I was scared of losing you,” he said. “Again. I can’t- I can’t lose you again, Whizzer.” He took a steadying breath, and then squeezed Whizzer’s hand. 

“I’m so sorry, I reacted in the worst way and I didn’t mean to make you think that I was leaving you. I promise I’m not.” 

“You- you don’t want to?” Whizzer asked tentatively. 

“No,” Marvin answered immediately. “God, Whizzer, of course I don’t. I don’t want to screw this up again.” 

“Oh.” 

Whizzer shivered, and Marvin noticed for the first time that his skin was covered in goosebumps. 

“Sweetheart, you’re- you’re not really thinking of leaving?” Marvin asked in heistation, only just catching on to that with vague, mild panic. 

“I- I was,” Whizzer said, deftly pretending to ignore the fact that Marvin had started to use pet names for him again in spite of how fluttery it made him feel. “Now I don’t know what to do.” 

“You’re freezing,” Marvin mumbled. “And sick. Please just- don’t let me stand in the way of you being taken care of.” He took a breath and looked up at Whizzer. “I’ll go, if you want,” he began. “After that, I wouldn’t blame you. In fact, I wouldn’t have blamed you before either.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“I’ll let you stay if you go to my house and get me something better to wear,” Whizzer said, though his tone was soft. 

Marvin looked up hopefully at the sliver of the man he’d once known. Whizzer was smiling slightly at him, and Marvin let out a breath of relief. 

“I can do that,” he said. 

“Yeah?” Whizzer asked. 

“Yeah,” Marvin answered. 

And as they looked at one another, it felt like maybe- just maybe- they were agreeing to more than just that.


	11. Eleven

Whizzer was exhausted. 

It was a perpetual state, but right then particularly so. Between the rattling nightmare and the events that had followed, he could barely hold his eyes open. But he did. Because he had way too much to think about to sleep just then. It had been a whirlwind couple of days, from finally admitting that he was sick enough to go to the hospital, to where he found himself now. Marvin, at that moment, was not there, and unlike earlier Whizzer was choosing to take this absence to think rather than cry. He’d sent Marvin to his apartment with very strict instructions- and when he’d delivered them, Marvin had smiled. Warmly, softly, sincerely. Smiled. Even though Whizzer was being nitpicky and difficult, Marvin had smiled. It had been gentle and a little indulgent, but it hadn’t been smug or false or forced. 

And Whizzer wasn’t sure that he liked it. 

That felt wrong. It was wrong, and he knew it. He should be glad that Marvin had changed, and when he got down to brass tacks, he really was glad. He was glad that, apparently, he no longer had to bend over backwards to please Marvin. But- that had been where the spice of their relationship had always come from. It had been what they’d built the whole thing on, that back and forth, the way Whizzer had pushed Marvin’s buttons. And this, this strange dynamic that they had started to build over the last couple of days, was just as bad in a different way. Now that the whole story was out and Marvin was still there, Whizzer couldn’t help but wonder about the long term. What they were doing now was fine for this moment in time. It was fine while Whizzer was sick and needed someone to lean on, someone to be gentle with him. But the more his diagnosis set in, the more he thought about what it was going to be like down the road. The idea of having Marvin coddle him like this forever made Whizzer feel anxious and unsettled. It was nice, in small doses when he needed it the way he did right now. But Whizzer was not a man who could stomach that kind of treatment forever. It just wasn’t in his nature; he needed passion and flair and intellect. Once, he’d said that Marvin was the one who needed a man who was smart and witty; what he’d learned in their time apart was that he did, too. He wanted this to work with Marvin, more so than he could have anticipated. But the gnawing knowledge that it wasn’t going to work with Marvin giving in to his every word and never biting back was there, increasingly present, in the back of Whizzer’s mind. 

He was mulling that over, running his mind in circles as he wondered what he should do about it, when there was an unfamiliar-sounding knock on the door. He looked up just in time to watch it open, revealing a tall blonde woman with high cheekbones and beautiful features that arranged themselves around bright blue eyes and a pretty smile that was now aimed at Whizzer. She stepped tenttively into the room and waved at him with her free hand, the other of which carried a tupperware container. 

“Hi,” she said. 

“Hi?” Whizzer answered uncertainly. He was quite certain that he didn’t know her, and yet she seemed confident that she did know him. 

“Oh,” she laughed. “I’m Cordelia. I’m Charlotte’s wife!” she beamed as she said it, and Whizzer couldn’t help but smile slightly at the sheer joy with which she spoke the words. 

“Oh, so Marvin’s neighbor,” Whizzer answered. Cordelia nodded happily, holding her hand out to shake his, and Whizzer wondered as he took it whether she knew that he was HIV positive. The thought was unsettling; he didn’t like that it was the first thing that came to mind, and wondered vaguely if he was going to think about that every time he met a new person from now on. That, he decided, was not a thought to dwell on right then in front of someone he had never met. He pushed it to the back of his mind and smiled, his signature bright and charming smile. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” she asked brightly. Whizzer shook his head. 

“Go ahead,” he offered, and she did, looking over at him with another smile. 

“I’ve just heard a lot about you,” Cordelia explained. “So I convinced Charlotte to let me come and visit.” 

Whizzer thought that if Charlotte was half as smitten with Cordelia as Cordelia was with her, it hadn’t taken much convincing. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Cordelia continued. 

“Not at all,” Whizzer replied, shaking his head. He did sort of wish that she had come after he got some decent clothing from Marvin, but mostly he appreciated the thought and the company of someone who didn’t make his head spin the way Marvin did. He was still exhausted, but something about Cordelia’s presence livened him up a little bit. She was cheerful and bright in a way that Marvin certainly was not, even in his new revised state; it was a breath of fresh air to have her there. 

“I’ve brought you something,” she exclaimed. She held the container out to him. “Rugelach,” she explained. Whizzer looked down at it, taking in the sight of what did not even vaguely resemble the dish that Cordelia claimed it was. Whizzer, in that moment, was glad that he was a good liar. 

“Thank you,” he said, sounding incredibly sincere as he set the container on the rolling table. “I’ve just eaten,” he continued with another smile for Cordelia, “but I’m sure I’ll love it later.” 

She beamed back at him, satisfied with that, and he regarded her curiously for a moment. This woman, he realized, probably knew Marvin better than he did. She probably knew Jason, too, and the appeal of having her there in the otherwise empty room at his disposal to ask her whatever questions he could fit in before she either had to leave or Marvin got back was great. Given his recent train of thought, it was too good to pass up. 

“Hey,” he began, “since you’re here, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” Cordelia replied. For having just met Whizzer, she was wildly eager. He found it very charming, and had decided within moments of meeting her that he liked Cordelia. If he and Marvin lasted, somehow, through the illness and whatever came with it, he thought he could see himself being friends with Cordelia, and the thought of planning that far ahead was comforting considering that the day before, he’d thought he was dying. 

“What’s Marvin like?” he asked. “I mean, Charlotte kind of told me and obviously I’ve been spending time with him but...I don’t know, I just thought you might be able to tell me more.” 

“Hm,” Cordelia hummed. “Well, he’s kind of hard to read. Kind of private, but not about everything.” 

“What do you mean?” Whizzer asked, a little more eager than he had meant to be. “What is he not private about?” 

Cordelia’s eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, watching him with undisguised interest. 

“You,” she answered simply, and Whizzer stared at her for a moment. That information made him feel fluttery and anticipatory, which elicited a flame of hope within him. Something about that, vaguely resembling flirtation, made him wonder if maybe there was some potential to salvage the whole mess. 

“Go on,” he said, and Cordelia laughed. 

“We just feel like we already know you,” she continued, echoing Charlotte’s words from before. “He’s talked about you a lot.” She turned pensieve for a moment, and Whizzer waited. “He has a lot of regrets, you know.” 

Whizzer thought back on his relationship with Marvin, the fighting and the tension and how angry Marvin had been. How often Whizzer had been hurt, and how insecure he had been. The whole thing had been such a disaster; the idea that Marvin regretted it was slowly starting to sink in on Whizzer, and he rolled it over in his mind before turning back to Cordelia. 

“What does he say about me?” he asked. 

“That you’re delightful,” Cordelia replied. “That you deserved better. That you were smart and that you challenged him.” 

“He said that?” Whizzer asked. Cordelia nodded. 

“Yes,” she replied. “So often that Charlotte told him to shut up.” 

Whizzer looked down at the blankets on his bed, fingering the seam quietly. 

“He also says that he loved you,” she added quietly. 

“He had a funny way of showing it,” Whizzer answered, though his words held no malice or force. 

“Yeah. He said that, too,” Cordelia admitted. “And that he wished he had understood it all before it was too late.” 

Whizzer pondered that for a moment. He wished he had understood it all, before it was too late. What did that mean? What was it, exactly, that Marvin wished he had understood? And, perhaps more importantly, did he understand it now, and well enough to make it work differently this time? He considered posing such a question to Cordelia, but remained quiet about it, choosing instead to deliberate it within himself instead. Turning back to Cordelia, he spoke again. 

“What about Jason?” he asked. Whizzer had not been the kind of person to like kids. But he had most definitely been the kind of person who liked Jason. He’d always had a soft spot for Marvin’s son, and had missed him more than he cared to admit in Marvin’s absence from him life. 

“He’s such a great kid,” Cordelia said. “So smart.” 

“Yeah,” Whizzer agreed. When he looked back up at her, she looked vaguely concerned. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Well…” she began. “It’s just that when Jason stayed over with me because Marvin came here, he asked me who Marvin was going to see.” 

Whizzer watched her carefully, his heart in his throat. 

“And I didn’t tell him,” she continued. “But he knew.” 

Whizzer hesitated. The thought that Jason knew, that Jason was aware of Whizzer’s presence in Marvin’s life and the knowledge that he must have an opinion...it was enough to make Whizzer nearly desperate to know more. At the same time, he feared what Cordelia had the power to say. What if Jason blamed him? Or thought Marvin should leave well enough alone? Or was angry that Marvin had left him with Cordelia to come and see Whizzer? There were so many possible ways that the whole thing could go wrong. And yet, he had to ask. 

“Was he angry?” he ventured. 

“What?” Cordelia sounded surprised, shaking her head. “No,” she clarified. “He didn’t seem angry.” 

Whizzer took a breath. Suddenly, he was exhausted all over again. He didn’t have a clue where this was going, but as he thought about Jason’s wild curls and bright, but rare, smile, he knew that he couldn’t let it go without a fight. He may have been sick, but he was still kicking. It wasn’t the time to give up, he decided, not when he’d been spared by time and the development of science and the sheer luck that he’d been dropped into this life rather than one that could have ended right where he was now. 

That, he thought, really could give a man some perspective. 

“Thank you for coming, Cordelia,” he said sincerely. “And for indulging my questions.” 

“Of course,” she answered with a warm smile. “I get the feeling that you’re going to be around for a while, so I thought it would be good to meet you.” She smiled, somehow, more brightly. “And it was- Marvin was right about you.” 

“Which bit?” Whizzer asked, going for sarcastic.

“The bit where he said you were easy to fall in love with,” she answered. Taking the hint, she stood and smiled at him. 

“I’ll see you soon, Whizzer,” Cordelia said. “I hope you like the rugelach.” 

Whizzer was sure he wouldn’t, but he certainly did like Cordelia. 

As the door shut behind her, Whizzer dropped his head back to his pillows, and moments later he was asleep- this time, just a little more peacefully.


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi folks! I've been gone for a bit but now I'm back to end the year with full-force Whizzvin. Hope you enjoy :)

Whizzer’s apartment made Marvin uncomfortable. 

It was clean and orderly, as he had expected. But it was also a tiny studio and the carpet was old and the walls were dingy and the windows were thin and rattling. Everything was outdated and nothing looked as if it could possibly work the way it was supposed to. As Marvin stood in the center of it and looked around, he was overwhelmed by his guilt. He’d caused this. He was the sole reason that Whizzer, a man with a good heart and good intentions and who deserved so much better than the hand life had dealt him, was stuck here in this dump. The ways in which Whizzer had tried to make it livelier and nicer made Marvin feel even worse, sights like the wilting flowers on the tiny table and the bright pillow on the bed, in Whizzer’s favorite shade of light teal. 

He sighed heavily, thinking back on the way he had kicked Whizzer out. He’d just left him, with nowhere to turn. Now, looking at the tiny apartment that Whizzer was inhabiting two years later, Marvin wondered where he had turned. Where he had gone. If he had been safe. What it had taken for Whizzer to make it this far. 

He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answers to those questions, and it made him ache that he hadn’t cared before. He’d thought about it sometimes since, but not when it happened. And now that the evidence of Whizzer’s struggle stared him in the face, Marvin could barely stand the thought of what the in-between must have been like for him. While Marvin had been revising himself, moving himself into the apartment next to Charlotte and Cordelia and complaining about the size of it, Whizzer had been...God knows where. He looked around at the dilapidated apartment and peeling wallpaper and knew that he had never hated himself more than he did in that moment. He pictured Whizzer, sobbing and gasping for air with Marvin’s name on his lips as he had been not long ago, and his heart seemed to shatter in his chest. He couldn’t help but think of all the things he could, and should, have done differently. If he had just been kinder, more compassionate, gentler, more understanding. If he had just been more forgiving and not so quick to jump to conclusions. If he’d given Whizzer a chance or even just considered what he would be doing by kicking him out, they might not be in this position now. That, he thought, was the heart of the matter and it weighed more heavily on him than anything else; maybe, if he hadn’t been such a jerk, Whizzer wouldn’t have gotten sick. 

And even that train of thought was, in its own way, selfish. Marvin stood there, looking around, and wondered if he’d even changed at all. He wondered if, by returning to the hospital and to Whizzer, he would only be doing further damage. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t. If he should just leave Whizzer to his life; if maybe his ex-lover would be better off just staying that way. Indecision kept him rooted to the spot; it had all come crashing down on him so suddenly, the weight of his actions before and now. He knew that he couldn’t leave Whizzer again, especially not given the circumstances that he now knew Whizzer to be living in. And yet fear coursed through him at the thought of how thoroughly he could screw it all up. He forced himself to approach the tiny closet and open it, running his fingertips over Whizzer’s soft, still-familiar shirts. They hung there in a row as if nothing had changed, yet everything had. Nothing was what it had been the last time Marvin had seen these shirts, when Whizzer had folded them and packed them into his suitcase at Marvin’s insistence. They told a tragic story, now, hung there in the drafty little apartment where their finery looked drastically out of place. Marvin pulled his favorite one off of its hanger, careful not to stretch it or wrinkle the fabric, and then took the two steps back to Whizzer’s bed and sat down on the edge of it. It wasn’t comfortable, and Marvin took note. He held the light blue-green fabric in his hands and let it brush against his wrists, remembering pulling it open with fierce desire more than once and having to get the buttons replaced at Whizzer’s insistence. He held one of those buttons in between his fingertips now and tried to remember the last time he’d paid for them to be replaced. He couldn’t remember when that had been, but he was sure he hadn’t been happy about it. At the time, Marvin hadn’t been happy about anything. His own misery had invaded the lives of everyone around him, and ultimately it had resulted in longstanding consequences for everyone, like this tiny apartment that was so much less than Whizzer deserved. 

Suddenly filled with intense resolve to make it better, to fix what he’d broken, Marvin began to form a plan in his mind and took a breath. This time, he decided as he carefully packed the clothes Whizzer had instructed him to pick up, he would do things differently. 

 

This time, when Marvin returned to the hospital, Whizzer was neither coughing nor crying. Marvin smiled at him, warm and already more familiar than the day before, and decided that he would take that as a victory. Whizzer smiled back at him, too- another victory, if you asked Marvin. 

“Hi,” Marvin said as he handed Whizzer’s bag over to him before taking his seat by the bed again. 

“Hi,” Whizzer replied. He opened the small duffle bag, taking note of what was inside and then glanced back up at Marvin. “I had a visitor while you were gone,” he divulged. Marvin raised his eyebrows in question. 

“Who?” he asked. 

“Cordelia,” Whizzer replied. He pulled a set of pajamas out of the bag and Marvin caught a tiny, contented smile on his face for a fraction of a second. 

“Really?” Marvin asked. He glanced around for the container of food that he was certain must be there, and found it, sitting untouched on the table by the bed. He smiled slightly at the sight. 

“What was it supposed to be?” he asked, and at Whizzer’s confused look, nodded at the container. Whizzer’s eyes followed his gaze and his expression cleared in understanding. 

“Rugelach,” he replied. “But it’s...it’s not.” 

Marvin had to laugh at the expression of genuine concern on Whizzer’s face. 

“No,” he chuckled. “It’s not.” 

“Why?” Whizzer asked, half laughing himself at the sound of Marvin’s amusement. “I mean...do you guys not tell her?” 

“She’s only recently started experimenting with that kind of food, and it’s not going well,” Marvin replied. “She wants to cater Jason’s bar mitzvah, and I’ve been doing my best to convince Trina- that’s not going well either, by the way- but the last time we told Cordelia that something she’d made wasn’t the best, it was not a fun day. So,” he concluded, “now that she’s experimenting, it’s even worse, but Charlotte has forbidden me to say a word.” 

Whizzer smiled at the thought of Marvin trying to convince Trina to let Cordelia cater Jason’s bar mitzvah, and at that of Charlotte threatening Marvin if he dared to say anything. He had developed a surprising amount of fondness for them in such a short time, especially considering that he’d only met Cordelia that very day. 

“Thank you for bringing me these,” Whizzer said, looking up to meet Marvin’s eyes. 

“Of course,” he replied. This, he thought, was his opening. So he cleared his throat, and Whizzer looked up expectantly, noticing the shift in their lighthearted conversation. 

“What?” he asked warily. 

“Whizzer,” Marvin began, “I, um, I was kind of surprised by your apartment.” 

Whizzer went very still, but he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. This, he knew, could go nowhere good. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, tone suddenly guarded and careful. 

“It was-” Marvin struggled for the right words; he knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say it without being offensive to Whizzer. “Small,” he offered. 

“Well,” Whizzer began in a forced and failing attempt at lightness, “I’m just one person.” 

“Right,” Marvin agreed, “but it was also-” He paused again. Whizzer watched him, wishing that Marvin wouldn’t say anything else. He knew where this was going- there was really only one place that this road could be leading, and it was not a place that he had any desire to go. 

“I don’t know how to say this,” Marvin sighed. 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t,” Whizzer heard himself snap. Marvin looked up at him in surprise. 

“No, Whizzer, I’m not-” 

“Putting me down?” Whizzer asked, his tone sharp and defensive. 

“No!” Marvin exclaimed. “I’m not.”

“Really?” Whizzer scoffed. “Sure sounds that way.” 

“No, Whiz, I’m not,” Marvin insisted. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Whizzer looked over at him; he sounded so sincere that Whizzer had to wonder. If not that, then what? His curiosity, he knew already, was about to get the best of him in spite of everything else including what a horrible idea he knew it was to have this conversation. 

“Okay, then what did you mean?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Marvin hesitated; that, Whizzer decided, couldn’t mean anything good. 

“What?” he pressed, and Marvin sighed. 

“I don’t like that you live there, Whizzer,” Marvin said. Whizzer bristled at that; it was reminiscent in the moment of Marvin’s condescending, controlling attitude of their previous relationship- too reminiscent. 

“You don’t like it?” he repeated. “That’s not really up to you, Marvin.” 

“No,” Marvin sighed in frustration. “I don’t mean it like that.” 

“I don’t see how else you could mean it,” Whizzer replied honestly. “It seems pretty damn clear.” 

“Will you just listen to me for a second?” Marvin asked, bordering on desperate rather than the anger Whizzer had been anticipating. It caught him off guard just enough for him to fall silent, an opportunity which Marvin took full advantage of, leaning forward to look at Whizzer earnestly. 

“I just want to help you,” he said. 

“Help me,” Whizzer repeated slowly. “What does that mean, Marvin?” 

“Whizzer, you shouldn’t be living in a place like that,” he answered. “You’re obviously struggling and I can-” 

“No,” Whizzer said flatly. 

There was a moment of silence, the two of them looking at one another in equal defiance and uncertainty. 

“But-” Marvin began. 

“Marvin, I don’t want your pity!” Whizzer exclaimed. The outburst made his chest hurt, but he didn’t care. He was far too incensed by the whole situation to even really notice. 

“I’m not-” 

“You are,” Whizzer insisted. “You are. You wouldn’t be saying this if you weren’t feeling sorry for me.” 

“It’s my fault,” Marvin said in frustration, pushing his chair back as he forced himself to his feet and began to pace the room, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my fault you ended up there, and whatever happened to you in between is my fault, too, and I don’t even want to think about what that could have been and-” 

“I’m not your charity case,” Whizzer spat, dark eyes flashing angrily at Marvin. “If that’s all you’re here for, Marvin, to make yourself feel better about what you did to me before, then you need to get out and not come back.” 

Marvin stopped pacing. Everything seemed incredibly still as they stared at one another across the small, cold, sterile room. Whizzer’s chest ached both from the exertion and the idea that he may have gotten attached prematurely to the idea of having Marvin back in his life. Marvin’s chest ached at the guarded, betrayed look on Whizzer’s face and the knowledge that even this he had managed to screw up. 

“That's not it,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” Whizzer asked, raising his eyebrows defiantly. And Marvin wasn’t. The truth of that hit him like a ton of bricks; he wasn’t sure. He did feel guilty; what if Whizzer was right? What if that was what had drawn him here? And what if, when Whizzer got better and their lives went back to normal, there would be nothing left to hold them together and the walls came tumbling down all over again? Then what would they be left with but further shattered pieces of an already crumbled family? 

Whizzer sighed, weary and sad. 

“Go home, Marvin,” he said quietly, all the fight suddenly having left him. Panic rose up within Marvin and he opened his mouth to argue, only to be cut off by Whizzer. 

“You’ve been here for three days,” he said. “Just- go home. Come back tomorrow. We can’t talk about this now and you’ve got to figure out what you’re really here for.” 

Marvin wondered whether Whizzer had always made this much heart wrenching sense, and he had just never noticed, or if it was a new result of his own two-year revision. Either way, Whizzer had a point. All Marvin wanted to do was to tell Whizzer that it wasn’t true, that he was there because he wanted to be, because Whizzer meant something to him and this was their second chance- but the truth of it all was that he wasn’t certain of that himself. 

“Okay,” he sighed, instead of asking Whizzer if he was sure he would be okay; Marvin wanted to, but he knew that it would only be throwing fuel on the fire. However, he was nothing if not stubborn, so he looked back at Whizzer from his place by the door. He scrubbed his hand over his face and met Whizzer’s eyes, which betrayed nothing. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he said softly, knowing that Whizzer wouldn’t but needing him to know that he could. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Whizzer replied quietly, turning his head away from Marvin with more effort than he let on. Marvin stared at him for a moment, his profile lit by the faint lights outside and the fluorescence in the room. 

Then, deciding that for the time being, that would have to be enough, he let himself out of the room and shut the door behind him with a soft snap that rang with just a little too much finality.


	13. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRINAAAAAA   
> I love her so much and i'm so happy that I found a way to work her into this storyline with this chapter so here you have it and I hope you enjoy it :)

Trina had known. She had known that Whizzer was the one who was sick, even though Jason had staunchly refused to tell Mendel anything. She had known that Marvin would go to be with him, and somehow, in some part of her, she’d known that Marvin would make a misstep somewhere. No longer out of bad intentions or even misguided character, but rather because he was trying so damn hard these days. That evening, as she sat at her kitchen table by the warm incandescent light of the lamps that she’d picked out for this house, she sipped her mug of tea and mused about that very thing. In fact, she was just thinking about when there was a knock on the door. And she knew that one, too, as she stood from the table and ran her hand absently through her dark brown curls; she didn’t know how, but somehow she knew exactly who would be on the other side. 

“Trina?” Mendel called from somewhere deeper in the dwelling. 

“I’ve got it, honey,” she called back, sparing a peek through the hole to confirm what she already knew as she reached for the lock and swung the door open. 

“Marvin,” she intoned, no hint of contempt in her voice. He looked exhausted and his hair was a mess, not to mention that he was still wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing when he’d brought Jason home early over the weekend. 

“Trina,” he replied. She remembered when they’d first met, what she’d seen in him; there had been warmth behind his exterior and she had been so sure that she could pull it out of him. Looking back, she’d been so sure she could change him, fix him. Now, it seemed ridiculous. Trina had never had the power to change Marvin; the fact of the matter was, no one had. Not even Whizzer. Marvin himself was the only one who could ever have done it, and as she observed the desperate look on his face on the opposite side of her threshold, she couldn’t help but remember that he had. He had changed; the Marvin she had married over a decade earlier would never have looked at her like that. And, again, Trina knew. She knew that she wouldn’t turn him away; she couldn’t. Marvin had hurt her, but he was her son’s father and more than that, curiously, he was someone that she cared about. Trina, too, had changed, and now she smiled slightly at her ex-husband. 

“Come in,” she said quietly, watching the hesitant mix of relief and uncertainty wash over his features as he stepped slowly and politely inside. He looked like Jason, the childlike questions racing each other around his brain under a mess of curly hair that she knew well. This was second-nature; Trina was a caretaker, and regardless of how it had happened, she had come to accept that Marvin was a part of her family, too. He looked lost, in need of something- maybe something that she could give him- and she wasn’t about to let him try to find it on his own if she could help. It wasn’t in her nature, and though she’d spent a long time fighting it, it was something that she’d come to accept about herself. 

“I’m sorry to just drop in on you like this,” Marvin began apologetically, only for Trina to wave him off. 

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, but Marvin shook his head so she waved him over to the table and sat down, waiting for him to do the same. It was awkward and stunted, and Marvin wondered to himself for the hundredth time what he thought he was doing, coming to Trina, but he had been unable to think of anyone else who could possibly advise him the way that she would be able to. He’d spent a long time looking down on her, underestimating her, but now he held a great deal of respect for her. Trina had handled herself well under stress she had never deserved, continuing to care for Marvin and raise their son long past the normal breaking point. And now, with nowhere else to go, he turned to her once again. 

“What’s wrong?” Trina asked quietly. Marvin sighed; what a loaded question that was. 

“Whizzer’s sick,” he said. Trina stayed quiet. “He’s HIV positive.” 

That got her. She looked up from her tea and met Marvin’s eyes, something like fear and worry beating through her chest. 

“He’s what?” she asked unnecessarily, not really asking. “Have you-” 

“Yes,” Marvin replied, interrupting her before he had to hear her say the words. “I don’t know yet, if I am.” 

Silence rang in the air around them for a moment, Trina looking down at her neat tablecloth and Marvin looking over at Trina. 

“Charlotte says she thinks he’ll be fine,” Marvin said. “He’s got pneumonia, but they’re treating him now. And the HIV, they’re giving him the medications that can help manage it. So,” he shrugged, “it’s looking good.” 

Trina thought to herself, gazing into the depths of the tea that she found she no longer wanted to drink, that nothing about that looked good to her. 

“Trina,” Marvin began, drawing her dark eyes to his. “I need your advice.” 

She couldn’t help but think wryly about how ironic that sentence was, but nonetheless she held his gaze and nodded her head. 

“Okay,” she replied. 

“I went to his apartment today,” Marvin began. “To get him some clothes. And it was tiny, and it wasn’t safe and he had tried to make it nice but it just wasn’t.” He shook his head; Trina remained quiet, letting him talk. “And it killed me, thinking about him there. Because of me. And this is two years later, I don’t even want to think about what the first year must have looked like. And now, there’ll be so much more to think about, you know? Medications and that kind of thing. Hospital bills.” He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face as he leaned back in her kitchen chair and turned imploring blue eyes on her, desperate for her to understand. Whizzer hadn’t, and maybe Marvin had made a mistake, but he needed someone to see his point, and for whatever reason, he thought it was going to be Trina. 

“Marvin,” she sighed. Something in her features did speak of understanding, but a soft kind underlined by reproach. 

“Please tell me you didn’t offer him money,” she implored. Marvin said nothing, and Trina sighed. 

“I was only trying to help,” Marvin explained. 

“I know,” Trina replied. She did; she really believed that, foreign as the concept would once have seemed. “I’m sure that you were, but Marvin- you were horrible to him. You held your money over him and made him feel like he was nothing without it, or you. Did you really expect him to just let you waltz back in and do it all over again?” 

Marvin stared at her; he hadn’t thought of it that way. 

“Marvin, look,” Trina said gently. “He hasn’t been here to see what you’ve been like. All he’s seen of you is three days in the hospital, he doesn't know what you’ll be like after that’s over with. For all he knows, no matter what we could tell him, it could all come crashing back down in a half-second.” she sighed, shrugging one shoulder. “Trust me, I should know,” she added. “We all thought for a long time that it was only a matter of time before you went back to the way you had been.” She reflected on the evening of Marvin receiving his invitation to her wedding; it had truly not been a spiteful move, but rather Trina’s misguided efforts to smooth things over. It had all fallen apart so drastically, and if you’d told her then that she would find herself now sitting here having this conversation, she never would have believed it. 

“I think,” she began, “I understand where Whizzer is coming from better than most. He’s just scared, Marvin. He’s had to fight for every inch of that little apartment, and the thought of letting you take control of it all...that’s scary.” 

It would be, Marvin realized as she spoke. He had only been trying to help, but Trina raised good points. Marvin had known that she would, and he nodded his head, finding himself grateful for her insight. 

“Did he ask you to leave?” Trina inquired delicately, having put two and two together. MArvin swallowed hard and nodded. 

“He said I could come back tomorrow, when I figured out why I’m there,” he replied. 

“Meaning?” Trina prompted.

“He thinks I’m there just because I feel guilty for the way I treated him before,” Marvin told her. The words were on the tip of Trina’s tongue- are you?- but then she looked up and met his gaze. His expression, open and unguarded, spoke of uncertain, wild, true and deep love. It was as plain as day. Once, Trina had longed for those eyes to look at her with that love, but now she found her solace elsewhere and so did he, and somehow there was no bitterness left over from their days of hating their lives. 

“What do you think?” she asked instead. 

“I don’t know,” Marvin admitted. Trina nodded, and then she reached out and took Marvin’s hand on top of the table. He glanced up at her in surprise and she smiled slightly, warm and knowing. 

“I do,” she said. “Marvin, trust yourself here. You love him; you always did.” 

Marvin fell quiet, listening to the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of conversation between Mendel and Jason from the living room. This was the life he’d given up, to pursue a truth that was a little less scary with Whizzer by his side. He’d never have admitted it then, but it had always been true. And now, listening to Trina, he knew that she was right. He’d loved Whizzer all along, and he loved him now. It really was that simple; suddenly, it all seemed clearer. 

“Thank you,” he said, soft and sincere as he looked at Trina. And she nodded her head, squeezed his hand, and then stood. 

“Go home and get some sleep, Marvin,” she advised gently. “You’re gonna need it. And then? Go back and take care of him; don’t screw this up all over again.” 

Marvin nodded his head, and a moment later, Trina’s once-familiar arms were around him and the two of them were wrapped in a hug. Marvin could have cried; once, Trina’s touch had made him tense and angry, but now it brought familiarity and pure comfort. In that moment, he was so grateful for her, and a rush of emotion washed over him. He blinked hard and then they pulled apart, fueled by the sound of Jason’s voice from the doorway. 

“Who died?” he asked. The two of them laughed and turned to their son. 

“No one, bud,” Marvin replied. Jason hesitated; he’d been joking, but now he remembered Whizzer and wondered if his question might have been heavier than intended. 

“So everything’s okay?” he asked. 

“Yes, honey,” Trina answered. “Your dad just dropped by to talk to me about something.” 

Jason looked between the two of them, skeptical and unsure. 

“Weird,” he muttered, and then without another word he turned on his heels and left them alone again. The two of them turned toward one another. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it all out,” Marvin said quietly. Trina shook her head, smiling a little sadly. 

“It’s all worked out for the best, Marvin,” she said. Marvin shook his head in amazement. 

“You’re a saint, you know that?” he chuckled lightly. Trina rolled her eyes, but a smile played over her features as she shrugged. 

“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” she remarked, and Marvin laughed and in that moment he thought that maybe, just maybe, they’d all make it out of this okay after all.


	14. Fourteen

Marvin had hoped that he could get some rest at home, but at just shy of five a.m. the next morning he rose from a restless night of sleep. It had been even worse than sleeping in the chair at the hospital; he’d tossed and turned for hours, thinking of Whizzer and checking the time and counting down until it was morning and he could go back to see him. 

Trina’s words continued to ring in his head, her certainty acting as fuel to his own. He had been right to go to her; that much had been clear by the time he’d left there and returned to his own, too-quiet apartment. It had felt that way for a long time, but he’d sort of gotten used to it. Now, however, after having spent a couple of days with Whizzer- even a Whizzer whose ability to speak was limited by his lung capacity- the quiet seemed deafening. It was nearly six by the time Marvin stood in front of his closet, stumped by the clothes that hung in front of him. It was well past his chance to make a good first impression on Whizzer, but that didn’t mean it was too late to try. The problem was, Marvin didn’t even know where to begin. He’d never been good at this, and he’d never really cared, but Whizzer did. And now, Marvin cared about Whizzer and Whizzer’s opinion of him. So he was trying, and that was the important thing...right? 

He sighed. No, the important thing was really that he manage to look half decent, and he hadn’t a clue how to manage it. So he just took another breath and tried to remember what Whizzer had said, or tried to say, about his outfits before. He couldn’t recall any of it, and he sighed again in utter frustration with himself. Eventually, after much debating and hesitant almost-choosing, he settled on a plaid green button-down that he seemed to recall Whizzer liking, and made sure it was tucked in neatly with a pair of jeans that fit him well. Deciding to forego his beaten-up tennis shoes, Marvin settled on a pair of brown dress shoes instead and even attempted to tame his wild curls with a bit of gel that didn’t look too questionable, though he couldn’t recall when it could possibly have gotten into his drawer. With a final look in the mirror and a shrug of his shoulders, he set off for the hospital, stopping only to grab his second cup of coffee and two muffins on his way- one for himself, which he didn’t really want to eat but knew he should, and one for Whizzer, which was chocolate and sinfully sweet and which he hoped would serve as a peace offering as well as be tempting enough to get him to eat something. 

He took the subway again. As he stared out the window, not really seeing beyond the glass or even beyond his own head, he thought of what he was walking into. He was more determined now than ever to make sure that he gave this his all; Whizzer was worth that, and more. He’d known it before, somewhere deep in his heart below the issues he’d had with himself and the anger and the fear. But now, things were different. Now, Marvin was capable of and willing to love Whizzer the way he deserved to be loved. That is, if Whizzer gave him the chance. 

 

Whizzer was in a bad mood. 

He’d regretted sending Marvin away almost instantly after having done so, and he hated himself for feeling that way. It was all such a mix of conflicting emotion, and it made his head hurt. He had tried to sleep, telling himself that Marvin would be back the next day and he had been right to insist on some time apart. But then the coughing had started, the gasping for air and the desperate fear that crept into his chest. And he was alone, and he craved that soft way that Marvin would run his fingers through Whizzer’s hair and the comforting words and the hand to hold. He missed Marvin; the realization hit him hard and left him mostly sleepless for the rest of the night, resulting in his bad mood the following morning. And to top that off, he couldn’t stop staring at the door, which only annoyed him further. He wondered if Marvin would come back, and then wondered why he cared so much, and then wondered again if Marvin would come back. It was a vicious cycle that only served to make Whizzer anxious and irritated. After having snapped at the third nurse to enter his room since the pre-dawn hours of the morning in which Whizzer had awakened and not been able to return to sleep, he picked at a breakfast that he didn’t want at all, not even taking a single bite. The only upside to Marvin’s absence had been the shower he’d been able to take- it had left him weary and exhausted, not to mention frustrated with his lack of energy, but it had been worth it. His hair was clean, and that was enough to make him feel like himself again, at least for a little while. 

He was still picking at his food and trying not to think about his fear that Marvin wouldn’t return when there was a soft knock on the door. He looked up and took in the sight of Marvin, dressed clearly with intention and purpose, gel in his curls, standing there at the doorway with a cautious, hopeful look on his face and a brown paper bag in his hand. 

Whizzer’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Hi,” he said, suddenly unsure of himself in a way that Whizzer almost never was. 

“Hey,” Marvin replied. “I hope I’m not too early.” He rocked forward on the balls of his feet, clad in dress shoes that didn’t quite match his outfit, and Whizzer bit back a small smile in spite of himself. 

“No,” he replied. “You’re fine, come in.” 

Marvin looked relieved; he took a few steps forward and hesitantly sank back into the same chair he’d been inhabiting before. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, trying to tone down the anxious notes of his voice. Whizzer shrugged. 

“I took a shower,” he offered, dark eyes flickering to the pieces of silky hair that hung down onto his forehead. “So I feel a little bit like a human being again.” 

Marvin smiled slightly. 

“I bet they don’t have your shampoo here,” he remarked, quiet and affectionate and lacking in spite. Whizzer huffed in pure irritation. 

“Don’t get me started,” he warned. Marvin couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Hey, I brought you something,” he said, and Whizzer looked over with a touch of interest, watching as Marvin produced a deeply chocolate muffin from his bag, alongside a much less interesting banana nut one. He held the chocolate one out to Whizzer, watching him closely for his reaction. 

“I know you haven't’ been eating and I thought maybe something sweet…” Marvin trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know,” he added on an awkward laugh. 

“You know I haven’t been eating?” Whizzer repeated. 

“Well, yeah, I just...noticed and I thought you’ve got to eat something and maybe with your sweet tooth this would be more appetizing than…” he trailed off again, looking with faint disgust at Whizzer’s breakfast tray. “That,” he finished. Whizzer nodded, reaching out for the muffin. 

“Thanks,” he said. Marvin nodded. 

“Please eat it,” he begged, surprising even himself as Whizzer looked up to meet his gaze. Marvin flushed pink at the surprised, inquisitive look on Whizzer’s face. 

“I just mean- like I said, I noticed you haven’t been eating.” 

Whizzer wasn’t hungry, but he took a bite of the muffin anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” Marvin said into the sudden silence, anxious blue eyes on Whizzer. “I didn’t mean to offend you yesterday.” 

Whizzer swallowed slowly, looking down at the rich bread in his hand. 

“What did you think you were going to do?” he asked carefully, still observing the array of chocolate chips in the muffin. 

“I really just wanted to help,” Marvin said. “But I-I didn’t think about how it would look or sound to you. I just...didn’t think.” 

Whizzer nodded, glanced up at Marvin to find him still watching nervously, and looked back down again. He tore off another piece of muffin and ate it. 

“You know,” he began, “yesterday when I was talking to Cordelia it occurred to me that...we’re setting ourselves up for failure all over again.” 

Marvin watched him for a moment, and then took a bite of his own muffin. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I mean...you’ve been great, Marvin, really,” Whizzer answered, forcing himself to look up at Marvin. “But- there’s a future beyond this hospital room, and I just don’t know if you’ve really thought that far. It worries me that you’re trying so damn hard to take care of me.” 

Marvin thought about that for a second. 

“I guess I feel like you need someone to take care of you,” he said. 

“Yeah, and...maybe I do,” Whizzer admitted. “Right now. But is that a healthy way to...even think about starting a relationship? Especially with the history we have?” 

Marvin met Whizzer’s eyes, and something fierce shone in the blue depths. 

“I think it could be,” he replied, brave and bold and honest. “I want to make sure that it is.” 

Whizzer couldn’t help but smile slightly at that. This was what he had always hoped for, somewhere deep down, that Marvin could channel all of that energy and determination and stubbornness into something that would enable him to fight for him: for them. 

“I’m still the same person that I was, Marvin,” Whizzer said. “I mean...maybe we’ve both changed but I’m sick, not fragile. I’m not dying and I don’t need you to give me everything I want just because you feel sorry for me. That’s…” he shook his head. “That’s no foundation to build anything on.” 

“You’re right,” Marvin said softly. He looked earnestly up at Whizzer, so true and tender that Whizzer could have cried. “I’ll do better,” he swore. “I promise, Whizzer, I can do better.” 

“So,” Whizzer began, trying to sound less nervous than he felt, “have you figured out what you’re here for?” 

Marvin nodded his head quickly. 

“You,” he whispered sincerely. “I’m just here for you, Whizzer. I may not always know how to show it but I always mean it. From now on out, I’m just...here for you.” 

Whizzer watched Marvin, watching him, in that plaid shirt and the fruitless but obvious attempts to tame his hair, and he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered. 

“You really want to do this?” Whizzer asked. 

“Yes,” Marvin answered immediately, without even a hint of uncertainty. “I want- everything- with you.” 

As Whizzer watched, Marvin’s eyes filled with tears and his breath caught; Whizzer found that in that moment, he couldn’t think of one single reason why he shouldn’t dive headfirst into all of that everything with Marvin. 

“Hey,” Whizzer whispered. “Hey. Don’t cry, Marvin, it’s alright.” 

“Sorry,” Marvin breathed. “I just- seeing you like this, Whizzer, I can’t-” 

“Marvin, come here,” Whizzer relented, unable to contain himself any longer with that tortured look on Marvin’s face. Marvin looked up in surprise and Whizzer just shifted over to the side and held his hand out until Marvin had taken the space on the bed and the two of them were wrapped up together, Marvin’s head buried against Whizzer’s shoulder. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Whizzer murmured quietly, and for the first time it hit Marvin that his ex-lover had changed just as much as he had. 

“I can’t-” Marvin began, voice muffled against Whizzer’s skin. 

“Shh,” Whizzer soothed. “It’s okay. It’s going to be alright.” 

Quiet prevailed for a moment, Marvin collecting himself and Whizzer reflecting on how certain he suddenly was that he was doing the right thing. It had come on so suddenly, and yet as he held Marvin there in the hospital room, he’d never been more sure of anything. He supposed, running his hand through the curls on Marvin’s head that hadn’t been affected by the gel, that believing he might be dying had given him some perspective. 

“I’m sorry, Whizzer,” Marvin breathed, a statement that carried deep, layered meaning behind the simple syllables. 

“I know,” Whizzer said softly. “But Marvin, I can’t let you help me like that. Not- not like that. Not now.” 

“I know,” Marvin said. “Just- tell me what I can do, and I’ll do that. Just that.” 

Hesitantly, Whizzer kissed the top of Marvin’s head. 

“For now,” he sighed. “Just stay right there.” 

Marvin tangled his fingers with Whizzer’s, and they both tried to ignore the way their hearts pounded against their chests. 

“That,” Marvin sighed. “I can do.” 

And moments later, they were both asleep, side by side and one step closer to whatever came next.


	15. Fifteen

Whizzer woke up suddenly.

The first thing he was aware of was Marvin; pressed against his chest, restricting his already difficult breathing. Panic washed over him in the earliest half-second of awareness; he couldn’t breathe. It appeared that this position had not been the ideal one for them to have fallen asleep in, and as he gasped for air his mind raced to determine what to do, far too slow to help him at all. Fortunately, it turned out to be less than necessary; something about the tension and Whizzer’s ragged, barely-present breath had drawn Marvin from sleep as well, with a start. He looked around wildly, fear on his face, his blue eyes landing on a struggling Whizzer. Marvin scrambled for traction, pulling himself away from the other man. 

“Whizzer,” he muttered, and Whizzer, leaning forward as he fought to breathe, reached out for Marvin. Marvin responded quickly, taking Whizzer’s hand. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Marvin rambled. “I’m sorry, just try to breathe, it’s okay.” 

“I am-” Whizzer wheezed in protest, and Marvin nodded his head. 

“Trying to breathe, I know,” he rushed to finish so that Whizzer wouldn’t. “I know, sorry, just- just don’t try to talk right now.” 

Whizzer wrapped his fingers more tightly around Marvin’s and held them there, his other hand wrapped around the fabric of the sheets, so tightly that his knuckles were white. He held Marvin’s hand tightly and shut his eyes, trying desperately to breathe through the haze of pain and fear. He hated this; he hated everything about it, from how much it hurt to how scared it made him, to the look that it put on Marvin’s face. 

“Marvin,” he managed, tearful through the pain that tore across his chest. 

“I’m right here, honey,” Marvin replied, correctly interpreting Whizzer’s fear once again. Whizzer found himself grateful in that moment for Marvin’s newfound ability to do that; to know what he meant by the tone of his voice or the minutiae of his facial expressions. “I’m here,” Marvin repeated. “You’re okay, I promise.” 

And something about the way he said it or maybe just that, for whatever reason, Whizzer trusted him so much, made it sound true. It made Whizzer believe it, even in the moment when everything hurt and he was filled with such panic. 

“Whizzer, baby, look at me,” Marvin said. He wasn’t sure where this was all coming from; he had not traditionally been a very reassuring person, but for some reason with Whizzer looking at him like that, the words were there. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured. He reached up and ran his fingers through Whizzer’s hair, watching as Whizzer, leaning into the touch, slowly began to return to normal. It was painful to watch; Marvin couldn’t imagine what it was like to experience, and his chest physically ached at the thought of the pain and fear that Whizzer was enduring. 

“It’s alright,” he said, noticing that Whizzer had finally loosened his grip, his shoulders relaxing a little bit. Marvin ran his thumb over Whizzer’s hand and then brought his free hand, which had been in his hair, to rest on Whizzer’s cheek, brushing over his cheekbone lightly. 

“You okay?” he asked softly. Whizzer nodded silently, his eyes closed as he relaxed and leaned back in the hospital bed. 

“I’m sorry,” Marvin said quietly. “I didn’t think about lying against you like that, I didn’t mean to-” 

“I know,” Whizzer assured him, his voice still scratchy. “I know, Marvin, it’s alright. Neither of us thought about it.” He took Marvin’s hand and squeezed gently. “I’m okay,” he said reassuringly. 

Marvin never got the chance to respond- the two of them were interrupted by a knock on the door and when they both looked up it was to find Charlotte standing there, smiling at them. 

“Hi, Charlotte,” Marvin said. 

“Hey,” she answered as she stepped into the room with an especially warm smile at Whizzer. In spite of her no-nonsense attitude, Charlotte was a kind, warm person when you got to know her and, like most people did, she had developed a soft spot for Marvin’s...ex? She looked between the two of them, finding that she was no longer sure of that label. 

“I hear you had a visitor yesterday,” she said to Whizzer, who smiled back at her at the mention of Cordelia. 

“I did,” he confirmed. “Your wife is delightful.” 

“She is,” Charlotte agreed. “Her food, on the other hand…” Charlotte trailed off and both of the others laughed. 

“She brought him rugelach,” Marvin said, and Charlotte cringed, placing her hand on Whizzer’s shoulder as she looked down at him. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. Marvin watched as a smile played over Whizzer’s features, lighting up his dark eyes with amusement. 

“I was warned,” he assured her, with a glance over at Marvin. The way his eyes felt on Marvin’s own made them each feel secretly a little bit fluttery. It felt new and familiar all at once, some kind of tangle of mixed emotions that kept them both uncertain in the best way. Marvin shook his head slightly at the feeling; never had he imagined he would find himself at Whizzer Brown’s bedside, feeling fluttery at a little eye contact. Charlotte looked over at Marvin from where she stood at Whizzer’s side; he had clearly showered and changed, and she was fairly certain he’d even attempted to tame his hair. She smiled to herself, eyeing him. 

“Marvin, is that hair gel?” she asked. Whizzer looked delightedly over at Marvin, whose face was flushing pink. 

“Yes,” he replied defensively. “What about it?” 

“Nothing,” Charlotte laughed. She turned to Whizzer, who was trying and failing to hide his amusement, before Marvin had a chance to respond. 

“How you feeling, Whizzer?” she asked. Whizzer shrugged slightly. 

“About the same,” he admitted. He hesitated and then forced himself to ask the question he’d been delaying asking. 

“How long am I going to have to stay here?” 

Marvin looked at Charlotte attentively, both of them waiting for an answer. Charlotte sighed. 

“It depends,” she replied. “I want to see some improvement and I want to see you eating, then we can talk.” 

Whizzer, defeated, sank back against the pillows. He’d been expecting as much, but it didn’t make it feel any better. His life had been turned completely upside down in so many ways, and all he wanted was the space to figure where it all went from there. He couldn’t do that here, not really. It was too much, too busy, too different. But he looked over at Marvin, who looked concerned, and remembered how anxious he’d sounded when Whizzer had been threatening to leave before, and he knew that he wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not yet. 

“Marvin,” Charlotte began, “could I talk to you outside?” 

Whizzer looked between the two of them as Marvin nodded his head. 

“I’ll be back,” he said to Whizzer, and then followed Charlotte into the hall, leaving Whizzer alone as the door closed behind them. 

Whizzer wanted to be casual about it; he really did. But he couldn’t help wondering what they could be talking about. He could only assume that it wasn’t good; how could it be? He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, dark eyes trained on the door. Whatever they were talking about had to be something intense, or Charlotte wouldn’t have pulled Marvin into the hallway like that. Whizzer couldn’t help but wonder if it was about Marvin getting HIV tested. They hadn’t talked about it, but it had been on Whizzer’s mind. It wasn’t a subject he knew how to approach with Marvin, no matter how much he wanted to. He sighed, watching the door for any sign of movement as he rolled the whole idea around in his head. 

He had just resolved himself to it; he would have to talk to Marvin. And then, the door opened and Marvin returned, this time without Charlotte. He smiled at Whizzer, not looking intense at all, and Whizzer felt a surge of something he couldn’t quite identify. Maybe irritation, maybe just a certain kind of determination. Maybe both. 

“What was that?” he asked, sounding maybe a little bit more harsh than he’d meant to. Marvin looked over at him curiously, cautiously. 

“It was nothing,” he began, but Whizzer shook his head impatiently. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he implored. “Just- what was it about?”

“Whizzer, I swear, it wasn’t anything-” 

“You have to get tested,” Whizzer said suddenly, interrupting Marvin. Marvin opened his mouth to speak, but Whizzer began to talk over him before he had the chance. 

“I haven’t been able to figure out how to talk to you about it, but every moment that we get closer and figure this out, I worry,” Whizzer said. “I worry that you’re sick, too, because I don’t know how long it’s been like this and I could have already infected you.” 

Marvin opened his mouth again, but Whizzer was wound up and didn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon. 

“I can’t stand the thought that I might have caused that,” he continued. “That you might have to deal with all of this too, and that your whole life could be changed by the decisions that I made, and that Jason will be impacted by it and then-” he broke off, looking down at his hands. Marvin’s words got lost on his tongue, and he found himself speaking different ones instead. 

“Then what?” he asked. 

“Then- then you’re going to hate me,” Whizzer answered, the words forced. As he spoke, Marvin noticed with alarm that he was on the verge of tears yet again. “Because I’ll have ruined not inly my life, but yours and sort of Jason’s and maybe others and all of this progress we’re making won’t make any difference at all because you’ll resent me so much for getting you sick and then everything will just go back to the way it was and-” 

“Whizzer, hey,” Marvin interrupted, reaching out for Whizzer’s hand. “Hey, shh.” 

Whizzer trailed off mid-syllable, looking up at Marvin. 

“Whizzer, honey, that’s not going to happen,” Marvin said. He focused his gaze on Whizzer’s, calm blue on anxious chocolate. 

“How do you know that?” Whizzer asked through tears that made him want to scream. He was so tired of being this emotional, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Whiz, I’ve already been tested,” Marvin replied softly. 

“What?” Whizzer asked. “When?” 

“I went and got tested yesterday,” Marvin answered. “Charlotte had my results, that’s what she wanted to talk to me about.” 

Any shred of relief that Whizzer had felt at knowing Marvin had been tested was instantly replaced by intense anxiety. Marvin had his results; he already knew whether Whizzer had permanently altered his life, and in equal measure Whizzer needed to know and wanted to avoid the topic forever. Sounding as if they were spoken by another person entirely, words found their way to Whizzer’s lips. 

“What were they?” he asked. He looked desperately at Marvin, and the look of fear and anxious uncertainty painted on his handsome features made Marvin want to hold him forever and not let go. 

“I’m okay,” Marvin said gently. “It was negative, Whiz.” 

Pure relief rushed over Whizzer at his words and when he blinked, tears fell onto his cheeks, creating tracks along the smooth skin. 

“Oh, hey, come here,” Marvin said softly. He was surprised yet again by how easily the comfort came to him, but as he wrapped Whizzer in his arms and held him close, he was more grateful that it did than puzzled as to why. 

“It’s okay. We’re both going to be fine, and I’m never, ever going to hate you,” Marvin assured him quietly. And as Whizzer buried his head against Marvin’s shoulder and, little by little, they took one more step closer together, Marvin thought that ultimately, it didn’t even matter how they had ended up there. 

This, Whizzer in his arms and their inexplicable growth together, was what did- and Marvin ran his fingers through Whizzer’s hair, wondering how it had taken him this long to figure it all out.


	16. Sixteen

Exhaustion, illness, and boredom had all set in on Whizzer. 

In the earliest days of his hospital stay, everything had been so emotional and confusing that he barely had time to think, let alone dwell on any of it. Now, however, was a different story. Things with Marvin had reached a peaceful plateau the day before, and as he was slowly coming to terms with hs diagnosis, there was quickly becoming less and less to distract him. As a result, he’d spent much of the day alone. Marvin had- with a barrage of apologies and the guilitest, most fearful look in his eyes despite how he tried to hide it- gone back to work as of that morning, having taken a day off already without even telling Whizzer. While Whizzer had appreciated it, he’d also told Marvin that he should go; despite the conversations they’d had and the place they had come to, Whizzer still worried about this becoming their normal. Their future wasn’t something he’d ever imagined himself thinking about, and yet he found himself thinking of almost nothing else now. It seemed, for the first time, like a reality that he was going to be faced with, a concept that was equally terrifying and exciting. As unexpected and insane as it was, Whizzer had already decided that it was time to embrace it in all its complicated craziness. Just days earlier, he’d been prepared to come to terms with his impending death. Now, with a diagnosis that would change his life but not end it, Whizzer found that he was given some perspective. 

That perspective, however, didn’t stop him from being bored out of his mind. Or even from feeling like death despite his knowledge that he wasn’t dying. With a sigh, he reached for his phone for the tenth time that morning, scrolling through things he’d already seen and wishing, not for the first time, that maybe he hadn’t sent Marvin to work after all. 

 

Meanwhile, Jason was standing by himself on a subway platform. 

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing; after all, Jason was a smart kid. He knew it was a big risk, and that he would more than likely be in huge trouble for it. But Jason’s intelligence didn’t stop at the knowledge that he was doing something risky. He also knew that sometimes, parents lied to their children. His dad, in particular, had certainly done so before. And while Jason really wanted to believe that Marvin wasn’t lying when he said that Whizzer was alright, or that Trina wasn’t lying when she told him that nothing was wrong, he just couldn’t. He had always been a seeing-is-believing type, which the twelve year old reluctantly admitted he’d gotten from his father. Which was exactly what had brought him here, to this subway station when he was supposed to be in math class, determined to go and see Whizzer. As he waited for the subway, he couldn’t help but think back on Friday night and his father’s determination to be with Whizzer, and think that Marvin himself would have done the same. 

An hour later, Jason was standing outside Whizzer’s hospital room door, only a little surprised and very impressed with himself that he’d made it this far as he raised his hand to knock with a steadying breath. 

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, Whizzer perked up at the sound, thinking that maybe he was finally about to get some entertainment. When he called out for his unknown visitor to come in and was faced unexpectedly with a somewhat shy and anxious Jason, however, he suddenly found that he sort of wished for the boredom again. Jason there alone in the middle of the school day couldn’t possibly end well. 

But Jason was standing there, taller and looking older now than the last time Whizzer had seen him in a red zip up jacket with his wild hair and black backpack on his shoulders, watching him expectantly with anxiety written all over his features. 

“Jason,” he said, staring at him the way the almost-teenager was staring back. 

“Hi, Whizzer,” Jason replied and at the sound of his voice, Whizzer’s heart skipped a beat. He’d always had a soft spot for Jason, but now that he found himself falling for Marvin again, there was something even more powerful about seeing Jason there in front of him in the flesh for the first time. 

“I don’t-“ Whizzer paused, shook his head. “What are you doing here? Who brought you?” 

Jason shrugged his shoulders.

“No one,” he replied, ignoring the first question entirely as he scuffed the toe of his high-top tennis shoes against the clean white floor. 

“You came here by yourself?” Whizzer asked. “It’s the middle of the day, don’t you have school?” 

“I take the subway by myself between Mom’s house and Dad’s on Fridays,” Jason explained, once again ignoring half of Whizzer’s inquiry. Now that he was faced with Whizzer in person, looking sick but overall very much alive, Jason had admittedly lost some of his nerve. 

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here in the middle of the day,” Whizzer pointed out. “Are you skipping school?” 

“Yeah,” Jason confessed. Whizzer sighed. Marvin and Trina would kill him, he knew it; he wouldn’t have to worry about HIV after all, because between the two of them he would be dead in an instant if he didn’t call them immediately and tell them that Jason was there. And yet, looking over at the kid’s face, there was something stopping him. 

“Why?” he asked instead. Jason sighed, and took another step forward, hesitantly. 

“My dad told me that you were sick,” he said. “Or- well, I figured it out.” 

Whizzer watched him closely, sensing that Jason wasn’t finished. 

“And I asked him if-” Jason broke off with a sigh, looking down at his feet. 

“If what, Jason?” Whizzer asked gently. 

“If you were really okay,” Jason replied. Whizzer studied him; he looked nervous and worried, so much like Marvin in those moments that it nearly took Whizzer’s breath away. And the knowledge that all of these pieces added up to- the idea that Jason had skipped school to come and see for himself that Whizzer was okay- was enough to nearly bring Whizzer to tears. He’d missed Jason, desperately sometimes, and had spent more time than he’d like to admit wondering if Jason hated him. Seeing the evidence to the contrary, right there in front of him in the form of a gangly, small, familiar twelve-year-old was heart wrenching and healing and everything in between. 

“Jason,” he said softly. Jason, compelled by something in Whizzer’s tone, looked up and met his gaze. 

“Come and sit,” Whizzer invited, and Jason moved forward to inhabit the chair that his father had recently been spending so much of his time in. 

“Your dad told you that I was going to be okay?” Whizzer said. 

“Yeah,” Jason answered. “He promised.” 

“But,” Whizzer began, “you still skipped school to come and see me.” 

Jason nodded; the longer Whizzer talked, the more comfortable he felt. Whizzer had always been that way with him. He’d treated him like more of an equal than the other adults in his life had, and it was something that Jason had always appreciated. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. 

“Why?” Whizzer asked. 

“Because I wanted to make sure,” Jason shrugged. “I was worried he was lying to me.” 

Whizzer thought about that for a second. 

“Why did you think he would do that?” he asked. 

“Because he thinks I’m a kid,” Jason replied, swinging his feet which didn’t quite reach the ground when he sat back in the chair. Whizzer smiled slightly at Jason’s phrasing, but kept quiet. “And because he’s lied to me before,” Jason added. “About a lot of stuff. Like being gay, and loving my mom, and not loving you.” 

Whizzer was reminded suddenly that Jason was the most brutally honest human being he’d ever known. 

“Jason.” 

Again, Jason looked up. His hazel eyes met Whizzer’s darker brown ones, and Whizzer held the eye contact, doing his best to look as sincere as he felt. 

“I’m okay,” he assured the younger of the two. “I promise.” 

Jason continued to look at Whizzer for a moment, anxious gaze roaming over Whizzer’s features in search of some sign of deception. Then, he nodded, apparently satisfied. 

“Was there something else besides that?” Whizzer asked. 

“What do you mean?” Jason asked, but he looked away from Whizzer as he did so. 

“I don’t know,” Whizzer began. “Some other reason why you came here?” Jason hesitated at the question. 

“I mean,” he began, “the other day I came in,” Jason began, “and I saw him hugging my mom, which was really weird, but they said that everything was fine.” 

Whizzer nodded his head, watching as Jason pulled at a seam in his blue jeans. 

“And my dad has been here a lot, right?” he asked. 

“He has,” Whizzer confirmed. There was quiet for a moment, Jason hesitating and Whizzer wondering where the line was. 

“Jason, I know we haven’t talked in a long time,” Whizzer began, “but if you have something to ask me, you can.” 

Jason took a breath; trutfully, now that he did believe that Whizzer was alright, he supposed he really did have another reason for being there. 

“Are you and my dad getting back together?” he asked, forcing the words out quickly in hopes of employing the band-aid strategy. He still felt unsettled afterward, though, said strategy having done him no good at all. He watched Whizzer, half wanting an answer and half wishing he wouldn’t get one.   
Whizzer thought about it for a moment; did he know the answer to that? He thought back on his time with Marvin, whispers of ‘stay right there’ and ‘I’m right here’ floating around in his mind. He sighed, looking over at Jason. 

“I think so,” he answered. 

“You think so?” Jason repeated. 

“Well,” Whizzer began, looking down at his own hands, worrying the edge of the sheet in his fingertips. “Your dad and I still have a lot to talk about.” 

“Is that code for no?” Jason asked. Whizzer smiled slightly. 

“No,” he answered. “It’s not code for anything, Jason. It’s just that things have been crazy for the last few days and I don’t want to speak for him when we haven’t had the chance to talk yet.” 

Jason thought about that for a moment, and then nodded his head, looking back up at Whizzer. He sighed. 

“Any chance you’re just gonna let me go back to school and not say anything?” he asked hopefully. Whizzer had to laugh; he coughed, once and then twice, caught the look of worry that crossed Jason’s features, and prayed it would stop. To his unexpectedly good fortune, it did. Whizzer took a breath and smiled reassuringly at Jason. 

“No,” he answered as if nothing had happened. “Sorry, kid. I’m gonna have to call your dad.” 

Jason sighed. He’d known it was coming, so he nodded his head. 

“Alright,” he said. He looked up at Whizzer, head tilted in a way that made him look so much like Trina for a second that Whizzer had to pause. 

“Do we have to tell him that it’s math I’m skipping?” Jason inquired. Whizzer grinned. He’d almost forgotten how delightful this kid was, and the prospect of possibly spending more time with him in the coming weeks made Whizzer feel warm in a way he hadn’t much lately. 

“I think we can leave that bit out,” he said, watching as Jason smiled brightly. 

“Whizzer?” Jason asked, a little hesitant again. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can- can I hug you?” 

Whizzer met the child’s wide eyes, and wondered if it was possible for his heart to burst from his chest. 

“Of course you can, Jason,” he responded, and moments later Jason was in his arms and, right then, no matter how much he dreaded the phone call he was about to make, Whizzer would have said without a doubt that everything would be alright.


	17. Seventeen

Marvin’s morning had been dull, but he still found himself on edge. He’d really not wanted to go to work, to leave Whizzer behind at the hospital, but Whizzer had insisted and eventually, Marvin had agreed. Now, after several hours at his desk in which he’d only been able to stare at his phone screen every few seconds and worry about Whizzer, he was regretting coming at all. He understood Whizzer’s point in sending him to work, but every time he thought about what could go wrong or pictured Whizzer doubled over and coughing all alone in the hospital, he was seized by the most intense urge to return to his side. 

So, when his phone, resting innocently on his desk, lit up with Whizzer’s name and buzzed lightly against the surface, his heart rate picked up immediately. A mix of excitement at the prospect of talking to Whizzer and immense dread that something bad had happened swirled within him as Marvin snatched the phone and answered it. 

“Whizzer?” he said, sounding more eager and breathless than he’d meant to. 

“Hi, Marvin,” Whizzer replied and, thank god, he sounded fine. Marvin let out a breath. 

“Are you okay?” he asked anyway, and Whizzer laughed lightly. 

“I’m fine,” he answered patiently. “Don’t worry.” 

“Okay,” Marvin sighed. “So, what’s up? Is everything okay?” 

Whizzer hesitated; unseen by Marvin at his desk across town, the younger man exchanged a look with Jason. 

“Well,” he began, “I don’t want you to freak out.” 

“That’s a quick way to achieve the opposite,” Marvin said. The longer Whizzer lingered, the more on edge he felt about what Whizzer had to say. 

“Okay, first before I say anything, I want you to know that he’s fine-” Whizzer began. 

“Who’s fine?” Marvin interrupted sharply. 

“If you’d let me finish, you’d know,” Whizzer replied. “I was saying, I want you to know that he’s fine, but Jason is here.” 

There was a moment of stunned silence. 

“Jason?” Marvin repeated. 

“Yes, your kid, remember him?” Whizzer remarked dryly. Marvin had to think, at least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. 

“What is Jason doing there in the middle of the school day?” Marvin asked. “How did he even get there? And why?” 

“Um, it’s kind of a long story,” Whizzer replied, noting Jason watching him anxiously and thinking that perhaps it was his story to tell. 

Marvin sighed, running his hand over his face in distress. There were so many things that bothered him about this that he didn’t even know where to begin. 

“He came by himself?” Marvin clarified, though he was already pretty sure that he knew the answer to that. 

“He did,” Whizzer confirmed, and Marvin sighed again, trying very hard not to think about all that that implied. 

“Okay. Alright, um,” Marvin said. “I’m going to come over there. I’ll call Trina on my way and just- do you mind to just make sure he stays where he is?” There was an apologetic note to Marvin’s voice, and Whizzer tried not to be hurt by it. After all, he’d never expressed to Marvin his deep fondness for Jason; Marvin had no way of knowing that Whizzer was not in the least bothered by his request, but quite the opposite. 

“Of course,” he said instead of allowing the hurt to come through when he knew it was unwarranted. Even in the moment, he congratulated himself on a small victory in his understanding of their relationship, something that two years ago would have been impossible. “He’s fine here,” he added with a look at Jason, and was rewarded with a small smile. 

“Alright,” Marvin said. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Okay,” Whizzer agreed, and with a slightly awkward goodbye, the phone call ended. Jason looked nervously at Whizzer. 

“Is he mad?” he asked. Whizzer shrugged slightly. 

“I think he’s more concerned than mad,” he answered. Jason looked, if possible, even smaller, staring down at his shoes. Whizzer tilted his head, watching Jason. 

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly, bringing Jason’s inquisitive gaze back to his own. He smiled reassuringly. 

“Nothing is forever,” he said. “Your dad may be upset right now, but things get better.” 

Jason seemed to think about that for a moment, and then nodded his head. 

“Thanks, Whizzer,” he said quietly. 

“You’re welcome, kid,” Whizzer answered. He smiled, a little mischievous and a little brighter than he had been lately. 

“You have a chess set in that backpack?” he asked, taking great pleasure in the way Jason’s face lit up at his question. 

“Yes, do you want to play?” the child asked eagerly. 

“Can’t think of a better way to pass the time,” Whizzer replied, and Jason smiled brightly as he began to take out his chess set. 

 

By the time Marvin arrived at the hospital, he’d been chewed out by two seperate people. First, it had been his boss. She’d demanded to know why he had to leave early and challenged his reasoning, telling him more than once that he was needed at work. Finally, she had let him leave, by which time he’d been so irritated that he had actually had to hold off on calling Trina for a few minutes to cool off. Then, he’d been attacked by Trina as well, and though he knew that it was her misplaced fear and worry for their son, he couldn’t help but be annoyed that she was taking it out on him. After having explained to her that he was going to get Jason, who was perfectly safe, and would bring him to her, she’d finally calmed down and even apologized for having snapped at him. Unlike how it had once been, Marvin had managed to see that for what it was and move on, even enough to calm down himself by the time he reached the hospital. 

Now, however, he was anything but calm. He really hated having to have conversations like this with Jason, and to throw Whizzer in the mix was a whole other ball game. Then there was the fact that he still didn’t understand why Jason had come to the hospital in the first place, all of which amounted to a nightmare that Marvin would rather do anything but face. 

And yet, when he stood in the doorway to Whizzer’s room, watching quietly as his ex-lover played a game of chess with his son, both of them looking relaxed and calm in one another’s company- Whizzer stealing little soft glances at Jason and looking happier than he had since Marvin’s arrival there- something about it felt so warm. His anxiety melted away a little bit, watching them like that. It gave him hope, to see them interact that way, and even to know that Jason had sought Whizzer out like this, however misguided the attempt may have been. He knocked lightly on the doorframe before either of them could catch him staring, and they both looked up. Jason looked immediately more tense at the sight of his dad, while Whizzer smiled a soft, warm sort of smile and looked curiously between father and son. 

“Jason,” Marvin said. “Kid, what are you doing?” 

Jason hesitated. 

“Playing chess with Whizzer,” he replied, and Whizzer did his best not to laugh, resulting in a single cough that drew both of the others’ concerned gazes to him. 

“I’m fine,” he said, and they slowly turned back to one another instead. 

“You know what I mean,” Marvin said. He sat down on the edge of Whizzer’s bed, facing Jason in the chair. Jason fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket. 

“I wanted to see him,” he mumbled. “Because I wasn’t sure he was really okay.” Marvin hesitantly looked between Whizzer and Jason with a sigh. 

“Buddy, why didn’t you just ask me to bring you to see him?” Marvin inquired. Jason’s head shot up, looking incredibly surprised as he stared at his dad. 

“You would have done that?” he asked incredulously, as if this had never once occurred to him. Marvin glanced over at Whizzer to find the younger man also watching him. They held eye contact for a half-second and then Marvin turned back to Jason. 

“I would have asked Whizzer if it was okay first,” he clarified, “but yes, I would have.” Jason thought about that; he, himself, had not considered whether Whizzer would be okay with it- not really. 

“I would have been fine with it,” Whizzer added, noticing and correctly interpreting the look on Jason’s face. 

Jason looked up at him, then back at Marvin, and down once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Marvin couldn’t help but melt at the soft tone and childlike mannerism. 

“Jason,” he sighed. “It’s not that we’re upset that you wanted to see Whizzer; that part, I understand. It’s just that what you did was dangerous and skipping school isn’t okay, either.” 

Jason nodded his head, and with a glance between them, neither Whizzeer nor Marvin spoke any more of it. MArvin’s theory was that Jason would hear plenty from Trina anyway and he had to admit that, after watching him play chess with Whizzer, he definitely was feeling a bit of a soft spot for his kid right then. 

“You’re gonna take me home now, aren’t you?” Jason asked, sounding resigned as he looked up at Marvin, who chuckled lightly and ruffled Jason’s curls. 

“Yes, I am,” he answered, and as Jason groaned, Marvin caught Whizzer’s eye for a second- just long enough that Marvin’s heart stumbled and Whizzer couldn’t help but smile slightly. 

 

By the time Marvin had returned from taking Jason to Trina’s and leaving him there only a little reluctantly to fend for himself against her maternal wrath, Whizzer was asleep. Marvin crept quietly to the chair that Jason had last inhabited and sank down slowly, keeping his eyes on Whizzer in case he began to stir. He didn’t, though, and Marvin let out a sigh that was half relief and half disappointment. As much as he wanted Whizzer to rest, and knew that he needed it, Marvin couldn’t help but wish he were awake. He found, to his pleasant surprise, that spending time with Whizzer had quickly become his very favorite thing to do. This hospital was a strange place to do so, but as Marvin watched Whizzer’s peaceful features and the rise and fall of his chest, he realized that he’d been falling in love. 

Back in love, maybe. 

Or maybe not. He still wasn’t entirely clear on that part, on what they had been before or what he had really felt and how much of it had been genuine. But he knew what he felt now, reaching out to slip his own fingers in between Whizzer’s as gently as possible so as not to wake him, and he decided in that moment that what he felt now was really the part that mattered most. The rest, he thought, they could sort out later.


	18. Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Sorry it's been a while. I moved to college and had a lot of breakdowns and almost moved home again but things seem to be looking up a bit now. maybe. at any rate, here's a new chapter! I'm not sure how many more there will be, but we're definitely winding down at this point. Enjoy!

Whizzer was beginning to wonder what he was supposed to do. What the next step was. He’d been in the hospital for several days now, and on top of getting bored, he was also getting restless. At the same time, watching Marvin who was currently sleeping next to him, he found that in a strange sense, he didn’t want this all to end. Everything beyond the walls of this hospital required navigating. They were protected here, by the routine of it and the expectations and even in a way by the sickness. But once it was over, Whizzer wasn’t sure what happened next. He wasn’t sure if he and Marvin were supposed to see each other often or not. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to get invested in Jason, or how Marvin’s lesbian neighbors fit into the equation. He wasn’t sure if they were supposed to start all over or pick up where they left off. He ran his fingers through Marvin’s hair, feeling vaguely guilty. Marvin was spending so much time here, and he always looked exhausted. Whizzer wasn’t sure how that was going to affect their relationship once they left here, either. He didn’t want to screw any of it up this time; Marvin, he’d come to realize, was someone incredibly special to him. He couldn’t imagine doing anything that would ruin the whole thing not for the first time, but the second. 

As if he had known Whizzer was thinking about such intense things, Marvin stirred and smiled at him through bleary eyes. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hey,” Whizzer answered. He looked over at the clock, taking in the time. “You should go home, Marv,” he said gently. Marvin looked up at him, looking vaguely alarmed. 

“Why?” he asked, sounding nervous. 

“Look at yourself,” Whizzer answered. “You look exhausted.” 

“I’m fine,” Marvin said. Whizzer shook his head. He took a deep breath; this was not a conversation he particularly wanted to have, but it was one he was going to force himself through anyway. 

“I’m going to be out of here soon,” Whizzer began. “And then we’re going to have to figure this all out.” He sighed, looking down at his fingers, now fidgeting with the blankets rather than running through Marvin’s hair. “I appreciate you being here, Marvin, I really do. And I don’t want you to think otherwise. It was scary and you made it easier and I’m so grateful. But…” 

“But what?” Marvin asked softly, and Whizzer glanced up, taking reassurance from the soft, understanding look on Marvin’s face. 

“But you know things have to be different this time,” Whizzer said. “And we’re going to have to figure it all out, like I said. You won’t be able to be there twenty four seven when I’m released, and nor should you be. That’s not how a relationship should work. And we shouldn’t start off on that foot. It’s just not going to end well.” 

Marvin seemed to consider Whizzer’s words for a moment, watching him in silence. He stayed quiet for long enough that Whizzer started to worry, and then nodded his head. 

“I hear you,” he said sincerely. He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. “But what does it look like then?” he asked, sounding vaguely desperate. “To tell you the truth Whizzer, I’ve been staying here because I’m afraid of exactly that. Of what’s going to happen when it’s over and we do have to figure it out.” 

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Whizzer answered. He reached out and took Marvin’s hand. It was almost normal again, and yet it still made him feel bold to do it. Marvin looked up and met his eyes. 

“I don’t want to ruin this again,” Whizzer said, such sincerity in his eyes that it nearly brought Marvin to tears. Cursing his own raging emotions, he took a steadying breath and squeezed Whizzer’s hand. 

“Neither do I,” he said, hoping his own sincerity mirrored Whizzer’s. “I want to make this better than it was before, Whiz. You…” he cleared his throat, aware of the way that Whizzer watched him closely. “You deserve so much better than I gave you before.”

“Marvin-” Whizzer began, but Marvin cut him off with a shake of his head. 

“No, Whizzer, it’s- it’s okay. It’s true, and we both know it. You deserved better than I knew how to give you.” He squeezed Whizzer’s hand again, somehow both for himself and for Whizzer. “But things are different now,” he continued with a renewed note of determination in his voice as he looked up at Whizzer. “I’m different now, and I want to make this right. I missed you and I missed what we...what we could have had.” 

Whizzer, sensing that Marvin was quiet to gather his thoughts rather than because he had completed his thought, sayed silent. 

“I want this with you, Whizzer,” Marvin said softly. “I want whatever you’re willing to give me. The fact that you’re even letting me be here right now is more than I ever imagined I would get in the way of a second chance with you. If you need me to go home now because you want this to work, then it’ll half kill me but I’ll do it.” 

Whizzer couldn’t help but smile slightly at Marvin’s earnestness. He nodded his head. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you here,” Whizzer said quietly. “I do. More than I could have imagined I would. It’s just that you look exhausted and I want you to take care of yourself. That, and the fact that I want this to get off on a good foot. I want us to be able to get into this with a little clarity. At least, as much as we can given the circumstances we’ve already gotten ourselves into.” 

Marvin paused. 

“It’s not that you don’t want me here?” he asked, quick and vulnerable. Beneath the surface of his chest, his heart hammered. Asking such a question made his mouth feel dry and his chest feel tight. He had never been one to be so bold and yet, right then, he had to ask. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but in that moment he had needed to know, needed the clarification. He was sure that without it, he’d never be able to get up and walk out of this room. Whizzer’s face softened in response and he wrapped his fingers more tightly in Marvin’s. This was a new side of Marvin, this vulnerability, and Whizzer couldn’t help marveling at it. He’d never seen this coming, not in a million years. 

“No,” he said quietly. “No, Marvin, it’s not that I don’t want you here. I promise.” 

Marvin nodded hesitantly. 

“Okay,” he replied. “Alright. I’ll go.” 

There was a stillness between them for a moment, and then Whizzer tugged on the other man’s hand, his own heart now racing as Marvin’s had been moments earlier. There was a lingering kind of awkwardness between them, but it was laced with a familiarity that directly contradicted it. It was a paradox, and as the two of them looked at one another there in the unnervingly quiet hospital room where so much had already transpired between them. 

“What?” Marvin asked when the quiet became too much for him to handle, when he was too desperate to know what Whizzer had been waiting to say. 

“Will you kiss me?” he asked. The silence now shifted; it was suddenly no longer awkward or familiar or anywhere in between but new and charged and filled with an anticipation that the space had not seen in a long time, if ever. Their eyes locked and right then, Marvin could have forgotten that they were in a hospital room at all. They could have been on a baseball field in the spring, standing on the sidelines and watching Jason in the air that was starting to get warm, surrounded by chattering people and feeling this exact mix of hopefulness and fear and exhilaration. Time seemed to freeze as they looked at one another, blue eyes on chocolate brown, and then Marvin nodded. He leaned in and Whizzer leaned in and he could feel Whizzer’s fingers tangle more thoroughly in his own as Whizzer smiled slightly, just the hint of joy visible in his eyes in the instant before their lips met for the first time in two years. 

It was warm and gentle and everything that their kisses once had not been, but it was touched by the passion that had fueled them before, an encouraging hint at the core of what they were, what they could be. And all at once, it was over and time began to turn again, but nothing felt the same anymore. Something had changed in that moment, clicked into place in a way that neither of them had ever experienced before. They looked at one another for a moment more, both of them feeling the shift, and then Whizzer smiled, warm and sparkling, and Marvin would swear he could feel the earth begin to sway. 

“You can go home now,” Whizzer said, and Marvin had to laugh. 

“Alright,” he agreed. He hesitated, just a moment, and then asked, “Do you mind if I come and see you tomorrow?” 

Whizzer smiled again, brighter this time, and Marvin wondered why he had never noticed the millions of kinds of smiles that Whizzer possessed. 

“I don’t mind,” he replied. “Just...get some sleep, okay?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Marvin laughed. “Goodnight, Whiz.” 

“Goodnight, Marvin.” 

And then, Marvin stepped out with one last look back at Whizzer, and Whizzer, though alone, felt somehow less so for the first time in a long time.


	19. Nineteen

“Dad?” 

Marvin glanced up across the table at Jason, who was sitting hunched over his bowl of cereal. The poor posture made Marvin cringe. He stayed quiet, though, silencing his mother’s nagging voice in his head in favor of maintaining the favorable relationship he’d spent the last two years painstakingly repairing with his son. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“Can we go and see Whizzer?” 

Marvin froze at Jason’s casual question. It was Friday. Whizzer had been admitted to the hospital exactly one week earlier, and while Jason normally didn’t come to Marvin’s apartment until Friday evening, his school had a long weekend and he’d started his time with Marvin early, the evening before. Now, he had posed a question that Marvin was absolutely clueless as to how to answer. His mind raced. He wasn’t entirely sure, he realized in a moment of panic, what exactly he and Whizzer really were. And, perhaps more to the point, he wasn’t sure where Whizzer stood on Jason knowing about any of it. He and Whizzer, Marvin realized suddenly and far too late, had a lot to discuss. But Jason was looking at him with a mixture of hope and fear on his face and Marvin knew that he was backed into a corner. If he said no, Jason would think that something was wrong. If he said yes, he wasn’t sure where exactly that would lead. But as he looked at Jason and remembered his anxious questions about Whizzer’s well-being, Marvin knew that he didn’t have a choice. 

“Yes,” he said. “We can make that happen.” 

Jason visibly brightened, nodded his head, and returned with renewed fervor to his bowl of cereal- a brand that Trina would have frowned at, citing its sugar content. Marvin didn’t care, and right then he especially didn’t. He had much bigger concerns just then. 

“Bud, I’m gonna just make a call real quick, okay?” he said, standing from the table. Jason nodded, only half-listening, engrossed in his own cell phone. Normally, Marvin would have been bothered by it, but just then he found that he was glad Jason was distracted. He stepped away, pulling out his phone as he headed for his bedroom and shut the door, hoping to keep his son oblivious while he spoke with Whizzer. Marvin’s heart was pounding as the phone rang; he wasn’t even sure exactly what he was worried about, but he knew that he was terrified to have this conversation with Whizzer. 

“Hello?” Whizzer picked up on the fourth ring and Marvin felt his heart rate pick up a little more. 

“Hey, Whiz,” he replied. 

“Hey,” Whizzer answered happily; he’d been feeling steadily better, though he was still more fatigued than normal and his coughing fits had far from ceased. “What’s up?” he asked now, and MArvin took a breath. 

“So, um…” he began. “Jason is here.” 

“It’s Friday morning,” Whizzer said, without thinking. He paused, sensing Marvin’s surprise. Until that very moment, he hadn’t even been fully aware himself that he still stored that knowledge so readily available in his head. Yet, when Marvin had mentioned it, the information had rised to Whizzer’s consciousness with no effort at all. 

“Yeah,” Marvin replied, recovering from his momentary surprise. “Yeah, it’s a three day weekend so he came over last night.” 

“Oh,” Whizzer replied, feeling vaguely awkward now. 

“Um,” Marvin began again. “So Jason is here, and…” 

In the silence, it clicked for Whizzer very suddenly. Jason was there. And Marvin was calling him, sounding nervous. Whizzer’s stomach flipped. 

“And?” he asked, sounding nervous himself. 

“He wants to see you.” 

Whizzer hesitated. There were a lot of ways that he could go with that, and he was entirely unsure as to which road he was supposed to take. He couldn’t figure out what exactly Marvin wanted here, or even what he was getting at when it came down to it. 

“What did you tell him?” Whizzer asked. Marvin drew in a breath. 

“I- I told him yes,” he admitted. Rushing to follow that up with an explanation, Marvin kept talking. “I’m sorry, Whiz, I just panicked and I didn’t mean to do that without asking you first, but he was worried and I didn’t know what to say and I just-” 

“Marvin.” 

There was silence on the line again. Marvin could hear his own breathing for what felt like forever, but which in reality was only a few seconds. 

“It’s fine,” Whizzer said gently. “I’d love to see Jason again.” 

Marvin hesitated. 

“But- what do we tell him?” he asked. Whizzer paused; that was a question he hadn’t been prepared for. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “What do you want to tell him?” 

Another moment of silence filled the space on the phone line and both of them were wishing that they could see the other, to gauge what was happening between them.

“I don’t know what to tell him,” Marvin admitted. “Because I don’t know what we are.” 

Whizzer thought about that for a moment. He didn’t know, either. But he knew that they were something. That they could be something, maybe something really special and maybe something that would last. 

“What do you want to be?” Whizzer asked. He wondered if he sounded as wistful, as guardedly hopeful, as he felt. 

Marvin let out a breath. 

“Everything,” he replied, sincere and deeply honest, looking over at the empty bed that stood in his room, a bed he had shared with Whizzer once. A bed that had felt strangely empty ever since. 

Whizzer’s breath caught. Suddenly, he was maybe a little bit glad that Marvin couldn’t see him. 

“Everything,” he breathed in an echo of Marvin’s words. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll tell him the truth,” Whizzer replied. “That we want to try to make it work.” 

Marvin’s heart leapt at the words, spoken softly and surely through the phone. 

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll tell him the truth.” 

 

“Jason? You ready?” 

Marvin wasn’t sure that he himself was. A mix of fluttering excitement and churning anxiety had settled in on him as he and his son prepared to go out, heading for the hospital to visit Whizzer. 

“Yep!” Jason chirped. He, at least, couldn’t have been more ready. Marvin couldn’t help but smile at his son’s enthusiasm. 

“Alright then,” he said, “Let’s get going.” 

The two of them took the subway, much to Jason’s surprised delight. It seemed that he had not believed in Marvin’s resolve to stop driving in the city, but Marvin had been sticking to it. He found that he actually liked the change of pace, much more so than he had anticipated that he would. That, he thought as they sat side by side on the rattling subway car, seemed to be the theme for his life as of late. 

It was only when they reached Whizzer’s hospital room that Marvin’s nerves began to ease. Something about Whizzer’s familiar presence there, the warm and bright way that he smiled and the softness in his gaze not only on Jason, but also on Marvin, made everything feel a little bit less intimidating. Marvin hadn’t noticed that effect of Whizzer’s before- or perhaps it hadn’t been there then. Marvin wasn’t sure, but either way as he met Whizzer’s gaze upon entering the room, a feeling of certain calm washed over him and suddenly things seemed okay again. 

Jason certainly seemed to think so. 

“Hi Whizzer!” he exclaimed, bounding into the room and throwing himself into the chair by Whizzer’s bed with childlike abandon that made both men smile slightly. Whizzer, for his part, seemed genuinely very happy to see Jason as well. His eyes lit up as he smiled at Marvin’s son, for whom he’d always had a particular soft spot. 

“Hey, Jason,” he replied with equal enthusiasm. “I’m glad you could come and visit.”

“Me too,” Jason answered. He glanced over at Marvin, and then back at Whizzer. “At first I thought he was going to say no.” Whizzer hid a smile as he looked between Jason and Marvin. 

“Boring Dad, I thought he’d say no too,” Whizzer replied. Jason laughed in utter delight, and Marvin’s effort at a false front of offense melted into a smile that he couldn’t restrain. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, resting on the edge of Whizzer’s mattress in light of Jason having stolen his chair. “And this is why- the two of you are ganging up on me already.” 

“Duh,” Jason replied with a roll of his eyes. “We have to.” 

There was an easy familiarity about this that Marvin found touching. Something between the two of them had remained over the course of two years’ worth of absence. Watching them now, Marvin felt warm in a way that he hadn’t in some time. Something about the way that they interacted, already wrapped up in a conversation about- what else?- baseball, made Marvin feel like everything would be alright. He looked over at Whizzer, whose gaze was drawn to the movement and their eyes met. Whizzer smiled slightly, still tuned in to Jason’s story, and as his gaze shifted back to the child, he extended his hand to Marvin, who with a small flash of anxiety, took it and let Whizzer wrap his fingers snugly around his own. Jason’s gaze flickered to their joined hands and he paused. 

It was as Marvin had known it would be; Jason was far too perceptive and curious to let it slide. Marvin’s heart hammered against his chest as he watched Jason for a reaction. 

“Are you guys dating?” Jason asked. He looked between his dad and Whizzer, cautious. 

“We’re trying,” Whizzer said, surprising Marvin by responding to Jason immediately. 

“You’re trying?” Jason repeated, sounding skeptical. Marvin and Whizzer exchanged a look. 

“Yeah,” Marvin replied. “You’re a smart kid, Jason, and we want to be honest with you. Whizzer and I- we weren’t in a good place before. But things are different now and we want to make it work. So we’re going to try.” 

Jason studied them both for a moment. He seemed to be thinking all of that over, his intelligent hazel eyes flickering between them. Marvin could feel Whizzer’s tight grip on his fingers, the only sign that Whizzer was at all concerned with what was happening. Jason would have had no idea, but Marvin knew. He squeezed Whizzer’s hand lightly, hoping to offer some kind of comfort in the quiet. 

“Do you love each other?” Jason asked. There was a ringing kind of silence for a split-second that felt like ages. 

“Yes,” Whizzer answered. Marvin was sure that he had never turned to look at anyone so quickly in his life. Whizzer’s certain syllable raced itself around Marvin’s head; yesyesyesyesyesyesyes. It was a never ending loop, one that Marvin was sure he could listen to forever. 

Jason, unaware that his father’s world had just been shaken to its core, seemed satisfied. 

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Whizzer, do you want to play chess again?” 

And just like that, it was over. But as Whizzer nodded and Jason turned to get his chess set out, Marvin turned to Whizzer, whose warm eyes met his own. 

They stared at one another for a moment, unspoken emotion existing in the space between. 

“I love you, too,” Marvin breathed, so quietly that Jason couldn’t hear. But Whizzer heard. His heart dropped into his stomach in a surprisingly pleasant way and Marvin reveled in the way his eyes lit up at the words. 

And then, that was over too. But somehow, Marvin was certain that so much more had only just begun.


	20. Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends! This story is almost over; there will be one more chapter when I get around to writing it and then we're done! I hope you've been enjoying it even though my updates are almost nonexistent.

“Whizzer, are you sure about this?” 

It was not the first time that Marvin had asked that question, and the sigh that he received in response said as much. Whizzer, fighting very hard not to roll his eyes, looked up at Marvin and fixed him with an expression that gave a very clear answer. Marvin raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender, even going so far as to take a step back. 

“Alright,” he relented hastily before Whizzer could start in on him. “I get it, I’m sorry.” 

“Marvin,” Whizzer laughed lightly. “We’ve talked about this.” 

“I know,” Marvin answered. He sank into the chair by Whizzer’s hospital bed for what he knew was likely the last time. Whizzer was going home today- nearly two solid weeks after his arrival at the hospital and their subsequent unexpected reconciliation. It had been a whirlwind, and now it was coming to an end. 

That, Marvin knew, was a bit of a dramatic take on the whole thing. Whizzer’s hospital stay was coming to an end, but that didn’t mean that anything else was. In fact, it was looking like quite the opposite. Everything about this was meant to look like a new beginning for them, if under unusual circumstances. But Whizzer was going back to his little apartment, which Marvin hated to think about. It was the conversation they’d referred to- Marvin had told Whizzer that he didn’t need to go back there, but Whizzer had insisted. He’d said that they needed to do this right, this time. That they shouldn’t make hasty decisions or move too quickly. Marvin disagreed in this case, but something about the way that Whizzer had said it and the way he’d looked at Marvin had won Whizzer this one. That, and the fact that Marvin so desperately wanted to avoid fighting now. No matter how much the idea of Whizzer going back to his apartment or the idea that everything would have to be different when he couldn’t just turn up at the hospital to visit scared him, Marvin knew he had to take a step back on this one. 

He supposed Mendel would call that progress, were Mendel still his psychiatrist. 

Shaking Mendel out of his head, he turned his attention back to Whizzer. He wasn’t sure what this was all going to look like now, which was terrifying. Without quite realizing it, he’d gotten used to the idea that he could come and see Whizzer. They’d settled into a pattern that was about to be disrupted in a big way. Marvin, as a rule, didn’t like to have his patterns disrupted. As he looked over at Whizzer and Whizzer smiled and reached for Marvin’s hand, Marvin thought back to taking the subway instead of his car. He thought about that disruption to his pattern, about how it had allowed him to see things differently. He looked at Whizzer’s fingers wrapped in his own and thought about how this whole ordeal, the chance encounter of Charlotte ending up as Whizzer’s doctor and that of Marvin overhearing her call to Cordelia, had been in itself a disruption of his patterns. 

“Are you okay?” Whizzer asked, sounding curious and understanding as he trained his warm dark eyes on Marvin. Marvin looked up, following the sound of Whizzer’s voice, once so familiar and now becoming that way again, and he couldn’t help but smile slightly. Whizzer, in himself, was an interruption of Marvin’s patterns. He had come into Marvin’s life once, and turned it upside down, eventually leaving Marvin with the whole thing in shambles. And when he had just reassembled everything, Whizzer had appeared again, to disrupt the patterns and shake everything up again. But this time, it was different. Marvin was different. Somehow, Whizzer fit here now. The pattern, and in turn Marvin, could shift and change to allow room for this person and everything that he brought to Marvin’s life. 

“Yeah,” he answered softly, meeting Whizzer’s gaze. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“You look like you’re thinking about something intense,” Whizzer ventured, a little cautious and unsure whether he should be pushing the issue. But Marvin just nodded, unexpectedly willing to let Whizzer in on the whole thought process. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “You.” 

Whizzer laughed, unbridled and bright in the way that Whizzer so often was. Briefly, Marvin considered how lucky they were, that Whizzer could continue to live with his vivid openness and bright eyes. How lucky that they lived in a time when this disease couldn’t dim that spark and pull all of that life from his body. 

“Me?” Whizzer asked. “I’m intense?” 

Marvin chuckled at that, shaking his head slightly as he ran his free hand along the back of his neck, brushing the hair there against his knuckles. 

“Not really,” he admitted. “I was just thinking...how different things are now.” 

Whizzer visibly softened at that, nodding understandingly. 

“I’m glad things are different,” he said softly. “I never thought we’d get a second chance like this.” 

“Neither did I,” Marvin agreed. He looked up, ran his eyes over Whizzer’s beautiful features; the shiny dark hair, chocolate eyes, elegant jawline, soft pink lips, delicate eyelashes. Sitting there, watching Whizzer, each of them aware that things were shifting and they were on the edge of a change in their lives, a period of uncertainty that could turn into something more beautiful than they’d dared to imagine until now, Marvin decided that a disruption of his patterns was okay. In fact, when Whizzer smiled softly at him, he thought it was more than okay; suddenly it became necessary, beautiful, a life force that Marvin had been unaware he needed until he found himself unable to imagine going back to the way things had been.   
“Marvin?” Whizzer said quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know I’m not going to...disappear just because I want to go back to my apartment. Right?” 

Marvin sighed. 

“I know,” he answered; what was left unspoken and yet known by both of them was how much Marvin had needed to hear it anyway. That was the magic of the balance the two of them were slowly working toward in this newfound rebuilding of their relationship. There was an understanding there now, a mutual softness that had been nonexistent before. 

“I’m not,” Whizzer said. Marvin looked up, meeting Whizzer’s dark eyes. He smiled slightly. 

“I know.” 

The moment was broken before either of them could say anything more; Charlotte entered the room with a smile at the two of them. She couldn’t believe how it had all turned out; when Whizzer had shown up under her care that night, Charlotte hadn’t been able to see how anything good could possibly come out of it. Now, watching the two of them together, holding hands and exchanging soft glances, she couldn’t help but marvel at how wrong she had been. Marvin and Whizzer, it seemed, had found a new beginning amidst the darkness, and Charlotte couldn’t have imagined any better outcome. If she had been the type to admit something so sentimental, she probably would have said that it gave her hope. 

“Sorry to break up the party, boys,” she said as she stepped into the room. Whizzer grinned. 

“If you’re breaking it up to send me home, Charlotte, you’re welcome to kick Marvin and his clothes out any second now.” 

“Hey!” Marvin objected; Whizzer couldn’t help but notice that where there once would have been an undertone of anger, there was nothing but affection. Whizzer smiled slightly and wondered if the novelty of that would ever wear off; he hoped not. He didn't want either of them to forget this place that they’d found themselves in, or for that matter what it had taken to get them here. 

“Shut up,” Whizzer teased. “You know your clothes are horrid.” 

Marvin rolled his eyes. 

“I was more objecting to you kicking me out,” he replied; something about that brought on a twinge of sadness, but it was quickly pushed aside with the sound of Whizzer’s laughter. Marvin smiled and took a second to be thankful that laughing no longer sent Whizzer into a fit of uncontrollable coughing and wheezing. 

“Alright, you two,” Charlotte said. She turned to Whizzer and smiled again as he stopped laughing. “You’re out of here,” she announced. 

“Finally,” Whizzer groaned dramatically. “Where do I sign?” 

Marvin watched as Charlotte walked Whizzer through his discharge- it normally wouldn’t have been her job at all, but she’d taken this one for her own reasons, namely to make sure it went smoothly and perhaps more importantly, to check in on Marvin before she released not only Whizzer, but both of them, back into the real world. When the paperwork was finished and Whizzer was doing a final check of the room, she stood beside her friend and looked him over. 

“How are you?” she asked, knowingly, in that way that only Charlotte could. Marvin took a sideways look at her, considered lying, and then thought better of it. 

“Horrible,” he replied. He shook his head, and added, “I’m glad he’s leaving, of course. I’m glad he’s okay,” in case Charlotte misunderstood him. He sighed, and then continued. “I just...worry.” It sounded lame even to his own ears, but Charlotte seemed to understand. 

“You know, Marvin,” she began softly. “At first, I didn’t think anything good could come out of all this. But here you two are.” She nodded, sagely, knowingly. “I think you’re gonna be alright.” 

Marvin couldn’t help but smile; there was something very comforting about having Charlotte’s confidence in you. Marvin looked over at Whizzer just in time to catch his eye and took a deep breath. 

“Ready?” he asked with a smile for his newly re-christened no-longer ex-boyfriend. 

“Very ready,” Whizzer laughed. “My mattress at home is shit, but not quite as shit as this one.” 

Marvin bit his tongue, holding back the desire to offer to buy Whizzer a new mattress; the new Marvin, after all, learned from his own mistakes. The time for that kind of thing, he reminded himself, would come. Someday. In due time. For now, he squeezed Whizzer’s hand and told himself to be patient. 

“Let’s break you out of here, huh?” Marvin said, affectionately leaning in to kiss Whizzer’s cheek and marveling in the fact that he could. 

“It’s not really breaking me out when I just signed all the papers,” Whizzer reminded him. Marvin grinned. 

“Breaking you out sounds a lot sexier,” he said, and Whizzer laughed. 

“Plenty of time for that,” he said warmly. And maybe this wasn’t going exactly the way Marvin had wanted it to, and maybe there was still a lot that he was worried about, but right then, Marvin couldn’t help but think that maybe Charlotte was right- maybe they really were going to be alright.


	21. Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends! We've officially reached the end of the line on this one. I hope you've enjoyed it so far and will continue to with this final chapter that you've patiently waited for. I'm sorry it took me so long but hopefully it's worth it. Thank you for reading and joining me on this little journey. :)

Whizzer stared at the door. 

It was the same as it had been every day since his return to the little apartment he’d called home. Nothing had changed, and yet he still couldn’t take his eyes off of the door. Coming home, as it had turned out, had been harder than Whizzer had ever anticipated it would be. When he and Marvin had spoken in his hospital room, he had been so sure that he was doing the right thing by sending Marvin home to his apartment and going home to his own. He’d been absolutely certain it was what they needed. Now, staring at the door in the silence that had become deafening when it had started to equate Marvin’s absence, Whizzer wasn’t so sure anymore. 

His new normal was slowly taking shape; every day, he felt better and as cliche as it was, he had to admit that he saw life differently now. He genuinely did take less for granted than he had before, and as he continued to watch the door he wondered how much of that was due to the aftermath of his diagnosis and how much of it was due to the newfound hope he had for his relationship with Marvin. 

In the one week since his release from the hospital, Whizzer had seen Marvin once. The time they’d spent together, a casual afternoon of strolling and eating in which Marvin tried hard not to ask Whizzer if he felt alright and in which Whizzer didn’t have to try hard to make Marvin laugh, had been nothing less than delightful. It had felt normal, and right. And it had ended with heated kisses and wandering hands and Whizzer had torn himself away from Marvin to go home and as soon as the door had closed, Whizzer had felt empty. It had been then that the doubts had begun to set in and now, three days later, Whizzer was still staring at the door. He glanced away from the door and stared for a moment instead at his dark phone screen. The distance from Marvin made Whizzer feel like a high schooler, sitting by the phone just waiting for it to ring- except that Whizzer knew it wouldn’t. Once, Marvin had been nothing if not persistent. In the early days of their relationship, he had nearly driven Whizzer insane with his constant requests to meet up. At the same time, now that he looked back on it, Whizzer had to admit that he had thrived on the attention and the power it gave him to toy with Marvin. Things were different now; Whizzer wanted Marvin to call, and not because it made him feel like he was in control over Marvin’s emotions. Because he missed Marvin. Because he enjoyed his company and wanted to spend time with him. But with Marvin’s reinvention of himself came a certain respect for Whizzer’s boundaries. It was a good thing, Whizzer reminded himself as he frowned at the silent phone. It was good that Marvin wasn’t pushing him, especially when Whizzer had been clear about what they needed. It was a good thing. Whizzer knew that. He was glad Marvin was respecting what he had asked for, except that now Whizzer didn’t want that anymore. He wanted Marvin. 

And the phone still didn’t ring. 

 

Marvin was eating cookies. Cordelia was getting better, and Marvin still didn’t know what long game Jason had been playing but he also wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Besides, he had bigger problems than that now. 

Boy problems. 

Or so Cordelia called them, gleefully and with such delight that he couldn’t even say anything about the term. And, he supposed, she was right. He took a bite of his cookie and sighed. 

“Why don’t you just tell him that you miss him?” Cordelia asked from the other side of her own kitchen, where Marvin was sitting for the fourth afternoon that week. Since he and Whizzer had gone back to their respective apartments, Marvin had been spending a lot more time with his neighbors, mostly to keep himself from going insane or calling Whizzer incessantly. 

“I can’t tell him that,” he answered. “He wants us to go slowly and do everything right this time, and I...well, who am I to deny him that after everything that happened last time?” 

Cordelia, folding some kind of dough over on a floured countertop, shrugged her shoulders. 

“I don’t know though, maybe it would be better to be honest with him, Marvin.” 

Marvin thought about that. Cordelia’s words made him feel uneasy. He didn’t like the implication of lying to Whizzer, not when he was trying so hard to be better this time around. He couldn’t imagine that anything seen as dishonesty could be helpful in such an endeavor. At the same time, he wanted to give Whizzer what he had asked for and he couldn’t see how telling Whizzer that he wanted it to change could come across as anything but selfish. That was the last thing he wanted, for Whizzer to think he was being selfish. He sighed again, looking down at the countertop where his phone was lying, a few stray dots of white flour settling on the dormant black screen. He stared at them for a moment and wished the phone would ring. It made him feel stupid, watching it like that as if he could will it to ring. 

“Just think about it,” Cordelia said. She glanced over her shoulder and caught him looking at his phone, rolling her eyes. She dried one of her hands, reached for it, dusted it off and tossed it at him. 

“At least text him,” she implored. “Honestly, you might as well be in high school.” 

Marvin opened his phone with a halfhearted glare at Cordelia. 

“I’m not,” he muttered. Cordelia laughed. 

“Can’t prove it by me,” she remarked. 

“Hey, listen, I’m texting him right now,” Marvin objected. Cordelia raised her eyebrows at him. 

“Prove it,” she challenged. Marvin sighed. Looking down at his phone screen, he pulled up his texts with Whizzer and trained his eyes on the blank box into which he was meant to type. His fingers hovered over the keys, hesitant and unsure. He ran through scenarios in his mind and wondered how Whizzer would react to every word that he considered typing. He analyzed it all, quickly, and with Cordelia’s watchful gaze on him. 

“If you don’t say something, I’m going to steal your phone and type it for you,” she sang, leaning over the counter to look at him. 

“Now who’s in high school?” he grumbled, pulling his phone protectively away from her, just in case. 

Another look down at the screen. Marvin bit his lip. Quickly, he typed a message and ran his eyes over it once, twice, three times. 

Hey Whiz, how’s it going?

It sounded somehow callous, or too flippant, or otherwise wrong in some way. 

Cordelia, peering over the bar, read the words upside down and nodded to herself. While Marvin was distracted overthinking it, she reached out and tapped the send button and, with a nearly inaudible electronic whoosh, the damage was done. 

And, while Marvin gaped at his neighbor, too shocked to yell at her, Whizzer’s phone was buzzing. 

It pulled him from his staring at the door and he startled, glancing down at it. His heart leapt at the little box with Marvin’s name that had lit up his screen. He bit his lip, reaching for it and reading the message quickly. 

He ran it over in his head, trying to focus on the words. No matter how hard he tried, he found that the overwhelming feeling of comfort that had washed over him at the sight of that text coming through and lighting up his screen. It had been followed by an equally consuming desire to be with Marvin, and while he stared at the words on the screen, he couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling meant something. He glanced around at his empty apartment and thought about Friday nights with Jason, a warm living room and friendly neighbors and Marvin in arm’s reach all the time. Companionship. Happiness. Safety. All of it wrapped up in the closest thing Whizzer had ever had to a family. 

Right then, it all seemed clear. Clearer than it had in the hospital, even. He looked at the text again, and then nodded to himself. He knew what he had to do. 

Unexpectedly, they ran into each other in the hall. It was Whizzer’s first time there, but it hadn’t been hard to find. As for Marvin, he’d been lingering at Cordelia’s for far too long, and had finally taken pity on his friend and decided to pace back and forth in his own apartment. Whizzer hadn’t answered his text and it had sent Marvin into a veritable tailspin of panic. 

Now, his head still spinning, he looked up from closing Cordelia’s door behind him and found himself face-to-face with a tall, dark haired man with stunning chocolate eyes as he stepped off of the elevator. Whizzer stared at him and he stared back, each of them still in their surprise. 

“Whizzer.” It was Marvin who found his voice first. “Are you okay?” 

Whizzer stared at him for another moment, and his face gave nothing away. His dark eyes seemed to see into Marvin somehow, beyond the confusion and the racing heart and the anxious waiting for an answer. 

“I’m good,” he said softly. 

“What are you doing here?” Marvin asked. Noting how that could sound, he immediately tried to backtrack, his eyebrows scrunched together in a concerned mix of fear and frustration that made Whizzer ache to smooth his fingers over the skin there. 

“I didn’t mean- I just, I texted you and you never answered and I started thinking what an answer it was that you didn’t answer, but now you’re here and-” 

Marvin didn’t see Whizzer take two steps forward. He didn’t see Whizzer reach up to put his hands on Marvin’s shoulders, not until they were already there and his back was against the wall. The air seemed to be drawn from his lungs and he let his eyes fall closed as his words trailed off into non-existence and suddenly Whizzer was kissing him and kissing him well, like no one but Whizzer had ever been able to. And Marvin- Marvin was drowning. He was underwater and unable to breathe and certain that his heart and lungs were going to burst at any second and he could not have cared less. He leaned into Whizzer’s lips, hungry and desperate and searching for the release that came with allowing himself to be lost in Whizzer, with his familiar hands and pink kisses. The world around them ceased to turn for a moment, and it could have been any season, day, or hour. None of it mattered, not the past and not the future. It was just that moment, and the two of them, and the slightly dingy wall in the hallway of a New York City apartment building.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, each of them wishing for his own reasons that it could have lasted forever. The reasons didn’t matter. They stared at one another, ocean blue on rich brown and somehow communicated something that even at their best they had never been able to before. 

“I want to be here,” Whizzer breathed, soft and quiet and sure. 

Marvin nodded, understanding and without a trace of his once-ever-present attitude. 

“Come on,” he said softly. 

Whizzer let him take his hand, but stood still, wanting to be sure. 

“I mean, I want to stay-” he began. Marvin nodded. 

“I know,” he said. “Come on.” 

Understanding passed between them, riding on the coattails of a trust that neither of them had ever imagined would exist in their relationship, and then with a little smile Whizzer let Marvin lead him inside- and that night, the first of thousands, Whizzer didn’t need to stare at the door. He decided, somewhere in the early hours of the following morning, that he much preferred this view anyway.


End file.
